


Waking Point

by Jbee



Series: Gates of Askr: Year One [36]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 74,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26222974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jbee/pseuds/Jbee
Summary: A story telling the tale of one Askran summoner and her experience leading up to and the surrounding the events of FEH Book IV.Ch. I: Capital DreamsCh. II: Waking IssuesCh. III: Nýr HetjudansCh. IV: Álfr on a ShelfCh. V: NightmaresCh. VI: Breidablik’s CallCh. VII: ProtectionCH. VIII: Sleeping SicknessCH. IX: Tricks and TreatsCH. X: World of SteelCH. XI: Sweet Nectar’s ScentCH. XII: Flower of SorrowCH. XIII: Facing Reality
Relationships: Claude von Riegan/Summoner | Eclat | Kiran
Series: Gates of Askr: Year One [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703545
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. Capital Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Aug. 31, 2020. "Kiran and the Order are asked to investigate rumors in the city, rumors of waking nightmares that prowl the streets."

“It’s weird.” Kiran frowned, crossing her arms leaning back in her chair. “I mean some random guy shows up on our front lawn and you just let them in?” She questioned her roommate who had dropped by to give her a bagged dinner. She was working late in the Askran Library and she had forgot to pack dinner one for herself.

“He had the same coat as you!” Ranulf laughed, sitting on the edge of her desk, “I figured he was from the Order, official business or something?” their schedules were so scattered, it was hard to find time to catch up with each other.

“And then you let them make you dinner?” she scoffed, trying not to raise her voice. She had set-up her work station in the middle of the Library common area in full view of the circulation desk and entrance. Not the best place to get work done but it was perfect for watching people come and go, which was her intention.

“Hey, I’m not going to turn down a home cooked meal, besides, I got the feeling he was trying to, I don’t know, make-up for something…” Ranulf shrugged and grabbed the paper bag he had brought with him. “It doesn’t matter, if you don’t want the leftovers then I will just take them with me!”

“No!” Kiran cried out reaching for the bag and snatching it back. Her small outburst caused a couple of the nearby patrons to glance over with disapproving expressions. “No. I’ll eat them for dinner.” She smirked, eagerly rolling down the paper and peering inside. “ _Gourmet_!”

“Okay,” He chuckled and knocked his fist lightly on the wooden table to get her attention. “I’m on my way to Midgard’s Shield. I won’t be back until late tomorrow. Are you sure you’re going to be alright on your own?”

“Yes! Stop worrying!” Kiran waved him off, rolling the paper bag back up loudly. “I have been feeling much better since I was given that tea.” She had followed-up with Alfonse’s suggestion to visit the infirmary after they last met. The healers had given her a bag of tea, instructing her to steep the leaves and drink the liquid in the evenings to help her sleep. “I’ll be fine.” She reassured her friend.

“Well if you change your mind, just send word.” Ranulf stood up and stretched his arms over his head, making a deep satisfying sigh, and scratching his chest when he finished. “I can be back in no time!”

“Thank-you, I’ll keep that in mind.” She told him, she sweet smile fading as she watched him leave the library. She didn’t want him to go. She didn’t want to be alone in the house at night. It was true she had been sleeping better, her body felt rested but her mind did not. It was as if the horrors in her dreams continued night after night but her body no longer responded to them. She woke up every morning with a feeling of dread. Like the nightmares were just scratching behind her thoughts, smothering any sort of happiness. Kiran shook her head trying to clear her mind, _stop being so silly_ , she told herself, _it’s not real. Just stress, like Alfonse said. I’ll be fine on my own tonight._

Kiran looked up from her book as Soren and one of the new recruits from Vaskrheim approached her desk, intently talking to each other as they walked. She quickly looked back down, not wanting to make any eye contact that might encourage a conversation with her. She gritted her teeth, slouching further into her chair and raising her book up to cover her face. She groaned when the pair stopped in front of her desk.

“If you’re interested in joining this division you’ll need to learn to read Askran script.” Soren cleared his throat and Kiran felt his eyes on her. “You may remember Kiran, the Order’s summoner, from the night you arrived.” He dropped the stack of paperwork he had in his arms onto the desk in front of Kiran, making her jump and look up at him.

“How could I forget!” Claude laughed, “She gave me quite the warm welcome!”

“Kiran will work with you tonight, get you started on the basics.” Soren began leafing through the stack of folders and reports he had dropped.

“Wait, what?” Kiran’s eyes grew wide, it was nearing the end of the day and she had no interest in doing more work, especially not with someone new. “No, I’m busy, I can’t-“

“After all, she could use some brushing-up on her Askran too.” Soren shut-down her protest, pulling out a few softcover ledgers and tossing them on the table. “Language workbooks, I expect them to be done and on my desk by tomorrow morning.” He instructed as her jaw dropped.

“Ah! Master Soren!” Canas, the Orders Head Scholar, poked his head out from between the stacks and strode over to the group. “I thought I heard your voice. Is this my new recruit?”

“Yes, this is Claude von Riegan.” Soren introduced the pair to each other. “He hails from Fódlan, I believe he will make a nice addition to your division. I’m just finishing up his orientation. Handing him off to our dear summoner for this evening.”

“Most excellent! I hear you favor the bow, no?” Canas cleaned his monocle and placed it back on over his eye, scrunching his lean face until he grasped it in his brow. He examined Claude with quick bird-like movements. “It’s not often we pull the interests of someone with your… physique.” He mused, bobbing his head in a nod. “Research heavy we are; rarely do we see the glory of physical combat. Tell me Claude, what brings you to Exploration and Acquisitions?”

Claude chuckled and rubbed his neck, “I have my reasons.” He answered vaguely, which only perked Canas’ curiosity. “But if you have to know, which I believe you want to.” He smirked, charming the scholar. “I just love the thrill of a good mystery, it’s kind of my wheelhouse.”

Kiran rolled her eyes at this interaction, looking away and noticing a report at the top of Soren’s stack of paperwork. She slightly tilted her head to get a better look at the folder across from her. The word, ‘ _Nightmares_ ’ in Askran jumped out at her from the notes and a shiver rode up her spine. Noticing the group of men were deep in conversation, her fingers slowly crawled their way across the table, pressing down on the corner of the page and turning it slightly for a better view. ‘ _… experiencing waking nightmares every night…’_

“Oh my, yes!” Canas cried, giddy with delight, impressed with whatever he was discussing with his new team member. “Well I am indeed looking forward to working with you!” he patted the archer on the shoulder, pushing his way to address Soren. Kiran clenched her teeth, knowing their conversation was coming to an end. She quickly retracted her hand from the report. “Ah Soren, before you depart, may I have a moment of your time? I could use your opinion regarding something I’m working on.”

“Very well.” Soren sighed, gathering up his work and following Canas across the Library’s lobby and to the scholar’s small office.

She watched Soren drop off the paperwork he was carrying on the edge of the circulation desk before he entered the office that was adjacent, the mages quietly chatting to each other as Canas shut his door. Kiran stared at the stack of papers, she had to know what was in that report. She wasn’t the only one having nightmares and this could be the proof she needed to convince Alfonse to look into what was happening to her.

“So, where do you want to start?” Claude pulled out a chair and sat down, disrupting her train of thought. “Hey, maybe we can get out of the library after we complete these workbooks! I know little trick I picked up during my time at the monastery where you-”

“Just start on page one Claude.” Kiran dryly told him, looking down at her workbook and opening it. Glancing back at the report across the room that taunted her. _What if the people in the report saw the same thing as Líf and it’s all connected?_ She bit her lip, _I have to know!_

“The thing is, I’ve been studying the languages of Zenith since I arrived.” Claude confidently brushed a few loose strands of hair back with the palm of his hand. “So this workbook isn’t going to take me very long.”

Kiran rolled her eyes again, trying to ignore his boasting. She watched the librarian at the circulation desk and like a divine sign the woman working placed out a sign informing patrons that she would be away for a short period of time. Kiran’s eyes grew wide. _Now’s my chance_ , she thought, picking-up the work Soren gave her and tossing it in front of the smug archer. “Great, do this one too when you finish.”

Claude’s mouth gaped open, stunned, he silently starred at what the summoner just dropped in front of him. “This one’s your workbook...”

“ _Wow_ , you really are smart!” Kiran sarcastically sneered at him getting up and out of her seat. “Stay here.” She told him walking swiftly with a slight skip in her step trying not to attract too much attention.

Kiran smirked and felt a ping of excitement when she reached the report, opening it quickly to look inside. A request for assistant from within the city capital. She cursed Soren under her breath, he was right, her Askran did need work. Kiran could only make out a few words here and there but one stood out, one she had become all too familiar with recently. ‘ _Nightmares_.’ There was an address, she could go check it out, talk to these people and find out what they know herself, she decided.

Ripping a blank piece of parchment from a nearby notepad she reached over the top of the circulation desk trying to find something to write with. Kiran strained her arm just touching the pencil with her finger tips, causing it and her hopes to roll away.

“You know, the first rule for every successful scheme is to bring your own pencil.” Claude chuckled, holding out a writing utensil in front of the summoner’s face.

“What part of “stay there” did you not grasp?” A Kiran huffed, snatching the pencil from his hand. She stopped after she flatten the parchment down and looked at him from the corner of her eye, “Thank-you.” She quietly added, blushing slightly.

A slight smile curled at his lips and Claude looked down at the report. “What is this anyways?”

“Mission reports.” Kiran began to explain, not looking up as she continued to copy down the location where the report came from. “Requests for the Order’s assistance. Soren receives them from across Askr and then assigns teams from the Order to complete those missions.” She explained quickly, folding the parchment and closing the report file. “Okay, done! Let’s get out of here before-” she said turning, coming face-to-face with, “Soren!” she nervously laughed and quickly hid what she was holding behind her back. Her sudden stop caused Claude to bumped into her from behind.

Soren stared at them, expressionless, for short moment before slowly exhaling loudly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, Claude just informed me he has already acquainted himself with the Askran scripts.” Kiran forced a smile and gave a small shrug. “So, I was thinking I could show him around the city for a bit. Put in some real-life practice.” She tried to convince the mage to let them leave the library.

“I always found the best way to really learn something was to immerse yourself in it.” Claude chimed-in, catching on quickly to Kiran’s plan.

“Uh huh.” Soren kept his eyes on the summoner, narrowing them slightly. “What’s behind your back?”

“My back?!” She croaked, her eyes growing wide and she froze until she felt a gentle tugging of the parchment between her fingers. Letting go, she exhaled, pulling her arm back in front of her and showing the mage her empty hand. “Nothing, see. It was just an itch.”

“Fine.” Soren pushed between the two reaching for his stack of paperwork on the circulation desk, addressing the summoner before he left. “I don’t see the harm as long as you stay in the capital and you take Sir Raum and Sir Rorik with you. Alfonse will have my head if you don’t.”

Kiran let the spark of excitement roll over her, she didn’t need to force the smile she wore on her face. “Thanks Soren!” She hopped up and quickly pecked him on his cheek, making him blush and cringe before he shook her off, grumbling and rubbing his cheek with his shoulder as he walked away.

“I’m impressed!” Claude held up the folded piece of parchment for Kiran after Soren was out of sight. She squealed in triumph, snatching the information and rushing over to her desk to pack-up her things. “So, where are we off to?” he asked following close behind.

“You don’t have to come you know. In fact, you probably shouldn’t. It’s not going to be fun if we get caught.” Kiran shoved her work and a couple of books she had into her satchel. “Take the evening to explore the castle on your own, or something,” she shrugged, before mumbling to herself. “it will be safer than hanging around me anyways.”

“What, and miss whatever it is you’re up to?” Claude laughed, “Just try and stop me!”

“All right.” Kiran threw her satchel over her head, marching towards the exit of the library and by the Askran guards that were assigned to her who were lazing about in the corridors. They only noticed at the last minute that she was on the moved and scrambled to jump to attention, tripping over themselves, armour crashing and clanging as they tried to catch up. Kiran turn back to Claude who was close behind her. “Just stay quiet and don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

* * *

“So you must be pretty important to have your own set of royal guards.” Claude walked beside the summoner, looking back at the two men that trailed behind them, goofing off. “All through, they don’t seem that… competent.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a punishment.” Kiran mumbled, looking at her map. She stopped, standing off to the side of the cobblestone street waiting to cross as horses pulling buggies and Askran citizens rushed around closing shop for the day.

“Oh really?” Claude threw his head back laughing. “For who?” he poked fun, following her across the street.

“It doesn’t matter!” She scrunched her nose and puffed her flushed cheeks, stomping over to the next street marker. Kiran starred at it, with pursed lips trying to figure out what it said. She turned to Claude and pointed at it, “There, read that. What does that say?” pretending to quiz him.

Claude looked at the script on the marker and thoughtfully rubbed his chin, “Einn Lane?”

“Good.” Kiran announced, rechecking her map. “We’re going the right way.”

“Wow, there’s a lot of new development here.” Claude looked around, observing the area. Many of the shops had new facades and décor. The further they walked the more buildings they saw that were under construction. “New shops, cafes and up-scale eateries. It looks like they are undergoing some gentrification around here.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Kiran groaned, she was starting to realize she had pegged Claude all wrong. He wasn’t the dumb kid that poisoned himself she had met a year ago. He was intelligent, quick-witted, handsome and charming. She wanted to hate him for proving her wrong, but she was finding it difficult to do so. She stopped when they reached the end of the street. A large rundown manor house with cast iron gates and a short stone wall encasing the large yard, full of bushes and dead trees. The house was dark and falling apart. “Oh here. This is the place!” she announced checking the notes she took from the report.

“An Orphanage?” Claude stopped in front of the gate, reading a copper sign crusted with green patina. “It looks a lot older than the rest of the buildings on this street.” He placed his hands on his hips, looking around. “It seems out of place compared to the other establishments. Are there even people inside?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out!” Kiran pushed open the iron gate, bravely moving forward with her plan. The yard was unkempt and there were broken wooden toys scattered everywhere. “Okay Claude, just let me do the talking.” She told the archer when they reached the stoop. Kiran grabbed the large knocker and swung it against the door, rattling it on its hinges.

The two waited a moment with baited breath, exchanging excited glances when the muffled sounds of footsteps approached. They listened to sound of a lock clicking and the hinges squealed as the door opened just wide enough for the small boy to peer through the crack.

Kiran bent over, hands clasped on her knees and she cheerfully smiled at the child. “Hi there! We’re from the Order of Heroes! There was a request for assistance, something about people seeing _monsters_ from their dreams?” she happily asked.

The boy’s eyes widened in fear and he slammed the door in Kiran’s face.

Claude looked down at the grimacing summoner and crossed his arms. “And just how many missions have you been on?”

“Shut up.” She furrowed her brows and pouted, ignoring his question. She had not come this far only to turn around and leave empty handed, there had to be a way to get inside, she thought stepping off the stoop and looking at the side of the house.

Standing with the Askran guards from the path, Claude chuckled, amused as he watched the summoner wander around the yard, trying to come up with her next move. “Maybe we should head back-“

“Wait!” The front door swung open and a thin woman with hair tightly pulled back in a bun, called out to stop them. “I’m so sorry, please don’t go!” She pleaded. “I wasn’t expecting anyone from the Order so soon!”

“Good evening!” Kiran happily and quickly marched over to addressed the woman. “I’m Kiran and this is Claude.” She paused, smirking, “My assistant!” She snickered when she heard a small gasp from the archer as he joined them.

“Thank the stars! My name is Edda, I’m the matron here. Please come inside.” She held the door open wide and ushered her guests in, leading them down a long dark hall. Kiran noticed the home was quite dark, only maybe a couple of candles per room, each having several rickety old beds in them. Sounds of scampering as kids ran room to room, trying to avoid being seen by the strangers in their home.

“Don’t take offence. A lot of the children here have a hard time trusting strangers and many of them are besides themselves with exhaustion, they have been seeing things every night this week.” The chatty matron continued. “Physicians say it’s normal for children in their situation to have these waking nightmares, but the frequency of their occurrence… I just didn’t know who to turn to. So I reached out to the Order of Heroes.”

“How long ago did the nightmares start?” Kiran asked Edda, tilting her head.

“About two months ago.” Edda lifted the candle, shining the light on her distraught face, dark bags under her eyes. “They started to see the things outside their windows in the yard and walking around the street out front.”

“You look pretty tired as well.” Claude asked, Joining the summoner’s side. “Have you been seeing something too?”

“Yes! Good question!” Kiran added, excitedly snapping her fingers. “What does it look like?!”

“Oh, no, sorry” Edda shook her head. “When I hear the children screaming at night I often stay up after their frights to calm them, but I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary myself.”

“That’s a shame…” Kiran disappointingly mumbled, turning away.

Claude noticed the confused expression on Edda’s face. “She just means it’s easier to identify what the children are seeing if we knew what it looked like.” He explained to the worried matron.

Edda’s face lit up, “Well, I do have drawings the children made!” she proudly announced, continuing down the hall, leading them into the kitchen. A small fire in the hearth made this the brightest room in the home. “I have been hiding them from the others in the pantry with the vegetables.” she told them, disappearing into a dark closest and coming back quickly with a small pile of crude drawings, handing them to Kiran. “You know how children are, they would never go in there to look.”

Kiran began flipping through the pages she was given, “Do you mind if we sit down and take a look at these?” she asked, nodding towards the nearby table and chairs near the hearth.

“No, go right ahead.” Edda smile, gesturing to the sitting area. “And help yourself to the candy.” She pointed to a glass bowl filled with small hard candies individually wrapped. “They are a gift from the local contractor. An apology for all the noise and traffic during the day while they renovate the buildings on our street.” The matron began to explain as Kiran and Claude settled in around the small wooden table. “My aunt claims they are just buttering me up so I will sell my property, but this Orphanage has been in my family for so long. I can’t ever imagine selling it! Well anyways, I allow the children to have a piece each in the evenings, but you can have as much as you want, just don’t tell the children!” She giggled to herself before startled by the sound of a loud crash down the hall, followed by a long wail of a child. Her smile dropped “Oh no, excuse me!” Her eyes grew wide and she grabbed a handful of candies before she rushed to the doorway.

“Allow us to help Miss!” Sir Raum cried out, pulling along his counterpart. “The Askran Royal Guard are always there when in need!”

“Why thank-you!” Edda blushed and giggled again, “I would like that!” she told them as the three Askrans rushed down the hall together.

Kiran pushed her hand in the bowl of candies and pulled a handful out, shoving them in her pocket. “They all look different.” She muttered staring at the drawings and unwrapping one of the candies putting it in her mouth. “Nothing like what he described…” She flipped through the drawings trying to find one that might match Líf’s description of the creature he saw in her room.

“What should they look like?” Claude raised his eyebrow when he questioned the summoner. “I’m confused; do you already know what we’re looking for?”

“No.” Kiran shook her head, trying to avoid his questions. “It’s just odd that they all claim to see the same thing in the yard, but they’re clearly not.” She rolled the candy around her mouth as she thought out loud. “Nightmares. It can’t just be a coincidence…”

“I have a sneaking suspicion there’s something you’re not telling me.” Claude leant back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“I’m going to stay the night.” She unwrapped another candy, not paying attention to Claude. “Maybe I can get a look at this thing the kids are seeing.”

Claude puffed his cheeks, letting out a long and loud sigh, “Okay, I’m staying too then.”

“Oh no, you don’t have too!” Kiran waved him off, eating the candy. “Besides I have my Knights of the _Clowntable_. You should head back to the castle before it gets too dark.” She suggested, returning her attention to the drawings.

“And stop now?” Claude smirked, stretching his arms up and cradling the back of his head. “I’m not letting you have all the fun!”

* * *

“So I grab him by the collar of his fancy-pants shirt and I pulled him real close like.” Sir Raum recounted his tale to Edda, pretending to grab a hold of an invisible being. “I could feel him breathing on my face!”

“Oh my!” Edda gasped, giggling. It was close to midnight and she sat beside a passed out Sir Rorik, watching the other Askran Knight as he weaved his tangled yarn by the light of the fire.

The fat guard turn to the thin matron, growling for dramatic effect. “And I says to him…”

“Raum?” Kiran interrupted the story. “Can you do another patrol around the front street?” it was less of a request and more of a demand. She didn’t wait for his answer before thanking him and turning back to look out the window she had perch herself at. Leaning her head against the cool glass and staring out into the moonlit backyard, waiting for this creature to appear.

“Oh! Yes ma’am!” Sir Raum quickly saluted the summoner and bowed slowly to Edda. “My lady…”

“Thank-you Sir Raum. That was a lovely tale!” Edda blushed and stood up from the bench she shared with Rorik, who continued to snore softly. “I should turn in now anyways; I will check on the children before I do.”

“That’s a good idea.” Kiran turned to the matron and nodded in agreement. “We’ll be here all night, so just holler if you see or hear anything!” She tried to sound reassuring as she watched Edda leave the kitchen. She bit her lip and pulled out one of the candies she had stashed in her coat pocket. Claude quietly approached her at the window, leaning on the wooden frame across from her. Kiran offered him the candy that she was holding, trying not to stare to long, his handsome features exaggerated in the soft light coming in the window.

“No, thank-you.” He raised his hand, passing on the offer and crossing his arms over his chest. “Have you considered that all this could just be due to the kids having an over active imagination?”

Kiran scoffed and popped the candy in her mouth. “So just because they don’t have proof, you don’t believe them?” she returned her attention back to the yard. First Alfonse, now him. Perfect, she thought to herself.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Claude tried to reason with her. “I believe they saw something. It just might not have been what they think it is-“

There was movement in the yard. “Claude, be quiet.” Kiran whispered, sitting up straight, but staying still as a statue. She could have sworn she saw something move behind one of the trees in the yard. A dark figure moving between a bush and the thick trunk of the tree.

“What?” Claude’s eyes widened and he tried to follow the direction of her gaze. “What is it?”

A wave of fear mixed with excitement crept over Kiran’s body, she saw the figure move again, “ _Álfr_ …” she quietly gasped, not taking her eyes of the thing, until a blood curdling scream coming from one of the children’s bedrooms caused her to jump where she sat. The cries were followed by Edda shouting and Kiran turned to Claude, “Take Rorik and go check that out!” she told him, unlatching the window she sat at, pushing the pane open, and swinging her leg out over the sill. It was only a few feet off the ground, she could easily jump down.

“Where are you going?!” Alarmed, Claude grabbed her arm, stopping her from hopping out the window.

“There’s more than one!” Kiran cried out, pulling her arm from his grasp and sliding out, onto the ground below. She turned back, poking her head over the sill and stopping Claude from following out the window. “Just look after the kids,” she instructed, dashing out into the yard. “I’ll be fine!”

“Kiran!” Claude shouted from the kitchen window only to be drowned out by the screams coming from the front of the house. “Damn it!” he cursed, striding across the kitchen and knocking the sleeping guard’s foot to wake him, rushing out into the hallway to check on the commotion.

Kiran sprinted across the backyard to the dead tree that she saw the figure behind. She saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye. “I see you!” she sneered, dashing around the bushes to see the dark figure flicker, almost moving in and out of existence. Kiran tried to follow it as the figure flashed to the top branches of the tree, darting over to the next, continuing this pattern further into the bushes of the overgrown hedges.

She sprinted to catch up, slipping on a broken toy and losing her balance. Kiran scrambled to her feet, boots sliding on the damp yellow grass, “Son-of-a-bitch!” she cried out, hastily limping towards the shrubs. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard soft laughter coming from the thick bush and she reached for Breidablik’s holster, unsnapping its strap. She could see the figure moving out of the corner of her eye, but every time she turned her head to look at where she thought the creature was, it vanished. Frustrated, Kiran pull the ancient weapon from her belt, holding it out in front of her and shouted out to it. “Stop moving, or I will make you stop moving!” she threatened the thing.

The branches of the trees settled and became still, no more motion until a long black tendril slowly slid down from the branch of the tree. Kiran pointed Breidablik at the black thing that hung loosely from the in front of her. Not a plant, she realized, a leg. She followed the length of the leg up until her eyes locked on to the smallest slits of proud red eyes staring back at her from the darkness. It was hard to tell where the figure started and the shadows began, the dark leaves and branches were one with the creature, sliding within and around it.

 _“Poor little summoner.”_ It spoke, the creature’s words echoing in her mind, _“So tired of fighting. Why don’t you rest your eyes?”_

“Why are you doing this to me?” Kiran growled, she could hear shouting in the near distance. Claude and the others must have run into the second one, she thought, trying to ignore them, staying focused on the creature in front of her. She could feel her heart beating faster and beads of sweat tickling her pores, causing her to shiver in the cool night’s air.

 _“You can come with me?”_ The creature mused, chuckling quietly and swinging its leg. _“We can make you feel good again, don’t you want to be happy?”_

Kiran gritted her teeth, _it’s right, I’m so tired and miserable,_ her hand shaking as the weight of Breidablik grew heavier. _How could they make me happy?_ She wondered, _what could they possibly give me?_ “No! It doesn’t matter!” she stiffened her arm. “I’m stopping this now!” Kiran shouted, she wasn’t scared this time. She didn’t hesitate to let her emotion flow through her and into Breidablik. Unlike other times the energy came easily, quickly illuminating the tip of the barrel with white light as she embraced its power for her own to use.

The creature’s eyes grew wide, piercing red orbs in the darkness and the bushes around it began to rustle violently. The tendrils the slithered over its shadowy form extended quickly towards Kiran, wrapping around her weapon, up her arm, a second around her waist catching her off guard. She yelped, her scream caught in her throat as the vines pulled her into the shrubs so rapidly she didn’t have time to react. The energy collected within Breidablik sputtering out with a few dying sparks of power along with her courage. Kiran cried out, panicking, as she felt the vines constricting around her limbs, trying to find her footing and escape their thorny grasp.

“Kiran! You can stop searching, we caught the guy!” Claude jogged up to the back corner of the yard to find the summoner. He reached down taking a hold of her arm and pulling her out of the brush. “Are you all right? How did you fall in the shrubs?” he chuckled, helping her regain her balance.

“It’s in the bushes!” Kiran gasped for breath and pointed to where the creature was. The branches and the leaves kept rustling, she knew it was still in there. “Don’t let it escape!” she cried, commanding the confused archer.

Claude walked up to where Kiran pointed, running his hands over the tops of the plants, rustling them and shaking them about. “Where?” He shook his head, and returned to the summoner’s side. “There’s nothing but overgrown shrubs.”

“No, it was in there… it spoke to me!” she couldn’t hold her arm up any longer and she let it fall to her side. The shadows of the trees still stretched and clawed their way towards them. Kiran looked to Claude, _could he not see that?_ She wondered, looking around the yard, out of the corner of her eye, all the shadows began moving, extending towards her. She felt weak and dropped to her knees, the damp grass soaking through the fabric of her pants, sending a cool sensation through her body follow by a tingling and numbness. Kiran’s eyes widened in fear. “I… I-I can’t feel my legs…” she stuttered as the shadows of the yard reached her and she saw nothing else but the darkness that wanted to claim her.

“Kiran!” Claude quickly caught her shoulders, and gently lowered her head to the ground as she lost all mobility. “Okay, hold on there, I got you…” she heard him whisper before she lost consciousness.

* * *

Kiran groaned, squinting her eyes, groggy from sleep. “Where am I?” she mumbled to herself rubbing her eyes with palm of her hand. I’m _home_? She recognized the mantel across from her and the blue pillows on the couch she pushed herself up from. Feeling a gentle hand on her back.

“Hey now, take your time.” Claude eased her upright and offered her a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”

Parched, she eagerly took the water and drank it, the amazing feeling of cool liquid flooding her body. Draining the glass, she gasped, looking around her, only the fire in the hearth lighting the room. She could see on the far chair near the window her coat, ripped and dirty with Breidablik, her boots and other scattered parts of armour cast aside on the floor. “What happened? I just remember collapsing in the yard, then… nothing.”

“You passed out, but we caught the thing that the children saw!” Claude proudly took the empty glass from Kiran and placed it on the low beverage table in front of them. “It was the contractor. He cooked up a plan to scare Edda and the children, persuade her to sell her home to the developer.” He explained, leaning back into the corner of the couch. “He would show up at night dressed in a cheap monster costume, and get this, those candies you were eating all night were laced with a toxin to induced a mild hallucination. Enhance the kid’s imagination and use it against them.” He scoffed, leaning towards her and plucking a twig that had been caught in her hair. “I guess it all kicked in at once and you had so much in your system it hit you like a horse!” he laughed and smiled at her.

“The contractor?” she pouted, that’s not what she saw. She tried to make sense of the last part of her night. “Where is he now?”

“Sir Raum and Sir Rorik took him into custody. They gave me directions to get you home safely and Edda lent me her pony so I didn’t have to lug you around like a sack of potatoes!” He laughed again and gestured over to the chair he dropped their equipment off at. “Oh you might have to get a new coat. Those shrubs really did a number on it!”

The image of the creature in the bushes flashed in her memories. “But there was two of them!” Kiran jumped up, hopping over his extended legs, running over to her coat and picking it up. Small rips in the fabric, pulls of the threads and a torn pocket, _there’s no way I did this on my own,_ she thought. “What happened to the second one?” she demanded to know.

Claude pushed himself up from the couch, walking across the room to join her side. “Kiran, I’m not sure what you saw in those bushes, but I promise you there was only the contractor out in that yard tonight.” He took the coat from her hands and put it aside. “Tell me what you saw.”

 _It got away,_ she thought, biting the inside of her cheek, _I was so close._ She exhaled heavily, disappointed in herself for failing again. “You should just go home Claude.” Kiran dismissively waved her hand at him and slowly walked back to the couch. “I have work to do.”

“I know you saw something!” He followed close behind her, trying to persuade her to open up. “Why are you so afraid of sharing what it is?”

“It was just a hallucination, you said it yourself.” She flopped down on to the middle of the couch, slouching against the cushions and anchoring her socked feet on the edge of the table. She crossed her arms and stared at the fire flickering across from her. “Go back to the castle, relax, hang out with your friends.” She suggested, not looking at him. “You caught the bad guy, you’re the hero. You should go enjoy that.”

“Why are you so determined to keep people at arm’s length?” Claude sat down on the edge of the couch next to her, gripping the back frame so he could confront her face-to-face.

“I don’t!” Kiran huffed in her defense, she wasn’t always like this, she used to get along with the other heroes just fine. She just has a lot going on right now. She shook her head in disagreement, and quietly mumbled. “It’s just kind of a bad time…”

Claude erupted in laughter. “Oh, when’s a good time? I’ll just come back then!” he joked, his features softening, when he saw the bewildered expression she gave him before he continued. “Look, in my experience there isn’t ever a good time. You have to make your own, or you will be waiting forever. Find the good yourself, no one is going to do that for you.” He paused, there was sincerity in his eyes when he spoke, she found it hard to look away from. “Kiran, you have a light in you that I have only felt once before. I see how it draws people to you. Why are you trying to hide that?”

“A light?” Kiran raised an eyebrow, it was that moment she realized how ridiculous her life had become. She would have burst out laughing herself if she hadn’t felt so angry at the same time. “There’s no light! I’m not like you!” She scoffed, placing both feet firmly on the floor and standing up. She looked down at Claude siting on the couch and gave him a smug smile. “You heroes are all the same. It’s funny really, you think everyone that comes here has some grand story! You’re all so delusional, coming to Askr with your fancy titles, shiny armor and great hair. Handsome and beautiful even in the heat of battle!” Kiran paced across the room. Once she had started ranting it was like years of pent up animosity and jealousy tumbling out of her mouth that she couldn’t stop. “Well news flash, some of us here are just regular people!”

Claude grinned and chuckled to himself. “You think I’m handsome?” he smugly asked, trying to get a rise out of her.

“Of course! I mean, no! Not you exactly!” Kiran sneered, she didn’t like being caught off guard and she furrowed her brows in frustration. “Don’t put words in my mouth!” She puffed her cheeks and crossed her arms.

Claude playfully threw his arms up in defeat, “Okay, okay.” leaning back into the couch, clearly trying not to laugh.

“This is what I mean, you’re all so full of yourselves and you think you’re so smart, but you don’t know Askr. You don’t know what it’s really like here, what you’re really getting yourself into.” Kiran thought back on the events of the year. Cherche being imprisoned, the sacrifices in Embla, creatures haunting her dreams. These things don’t happen in the fairy-tales that she read growing up; no one was safe here and it was her job to keep them safe. She was starting to question if she could even do that anymore.

“You think Askr is a great place to come and learn from your peers, play with your weapons and fight for honour and justice. Be the hero and rescue the princess, but it’s not. That’s just a fantasy.” She sighed, losing steam. Kiran really did feel bad watching this poor new recruit as she shamelessly dumped her baggage on him. Maybe the only way to keep them safe was to scare them, get to leave, she gritted her teeth, maybe it’s time for her to just stop and go home too. “You’re just another foolish hero. who’s going to fall eventually. It doesn’t matter how many bonds you form, it’s just a matter of time before I get you killed.”

“Well, if I’m going to fall,” Claude pushed himself up and off the couch, taking that as his que to leave. He stopped at the entryway of the room, placing his hand on the frame and looking back at Kiran with a crooked smirk. “can this foolish hero get a kiss from the princess before he leaves?” he teased her.

Kiran stood in stunned silence, her mind racing. She remembered Alfonse’s warning. _‘Don’t get close to them, they will only bring you pain.’_ He told her when she arrived in Askr, and as much as it hurt sometimes, she followed his advice and kept her distance. Now she only felt sad and alone.

‘ _We can make you feel good again.’_ The creature in the bush tempted her, all she would have to do is leave everything behind. Would that be such a bad thing? Just let go of it all and give herself to them. The thought did peek her curiosity.

‘ _Find the good yourself,_ _no one is going to do that for you.’_ Claude had told her, these words stirred something deep inside her, an emotion that started to bubbled to the surface. Before she could take control over herself she was striding across the sitting room towards him, reaching up to his collar and pulling his shocked face towards hers. “Yes please.” She meekly squeaked before she hungrily pushed her lips on his.

She had no idea what propelled her into his arms, what made her want this and throw all her rules and inhibitions away. Claude lightly touched her cheek, tilting her head up and drawing her closer into him, sliding his hands down her neck, her shoulders and around her back, their bodies pressed together. They barely knew each other and she had felt no instant chemistry or deep connection, no sign to what was to come between them. She didn’t feel that spark, or the thrill of “love at first sight” she had known with others in her past. Claude just felt good and she wanted to feel as good too.

Kiran hastily reached down, grasping at the corners of her sweater, pulling it up over her head and tossing it away, reaching up and running her hands over his chest, eager for more. She wanted to forget about everything that had ever happened to her in Askr and focus only on him and this moment, even if it was only for one night.

“Hey, whoa!” He breathlessly said. “I was just… joking around!” His face was flushed, trying not to steal glances, holding her close to him.

She leaned away from him, confused and concerned, locking eyes with him. “You want to stop now?” Kiran quietly asked.

Claude paused a moment before a smile crept across his face. A smile that reached his eyes. He slowly shook his head. “No.” he whispered, brushing his lips softly against hers. “Don’t ever stop Kiran.”


	2. Waking Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the heels of her night spent with Claude, Kiran is faced with the question of what she really wants out of her life in Askr. With a little bit of help from a new friend, she follows the breadcrumbs of her memories to find the answers she is searching for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Sept. 7, 2020. "The Order awakes to the Waking Dream."

Kiran inhaled deeply, the fresh late summer air drifting in off the river and the call of gulls stimulating her senses was always welcomed in the morning. She was happy to have left the balcony door open overnight. _Wait a minute_ , she groggily thought, _I don’t remember leaving it_ \- her eyes flickered open and the memories of last night’s events came rushing back to her. Visiting Edda’s orphanage, the creature in the bushes and… She froze, looking at herself in the full-length mirror propped up against the wall near the bedroom door. She quickly became all too aware of her lack of garments, her simple cotton sheets brushing against her bare skin. _Oh no, what did I do?_ she stared beyond her reflection at the figure that laid motionless behind her, the sheer drapes of the four post bed billowing from the breeze.

Quietly she rolled onto her stomach, pushing her face into her pillow, trying not to shake the bed and wake-up her guest. Kiran slowly turned her head, covering her face with her hand and peeking between her fingers to spy on her bedfellow. Claude lay soundly sleeping, the crook of his arm over his face, covering his eyes. The sheet they shared laid loosely over his waist and tightly tucked in around his side. The muscles of his bare chest rose and fell gently with each quiet breath, _why did he have to be so attractive!_ She groaned _,_ pushing her face back into the pillow, she wanted to scream into it. _I’m such an idiot!_ She scolded herself, full of regret.

Kiran rolled her head back to her edge of the bed, taking a moment to catch her breath. _I need to get out of here!_ She decided _,_ pulling the small amount of sheet she had up around her chest, clutching it in her fist. She reached over for her short silk housecoat that hung on a nearby wardrobe. Straining and stretching, it was just out of arms reach. She shifted herself closer to the edge of the bed, trusting the sheet to support her weight, whinging through clenched teeth. Kiran gasped as the sheet beneath her became slack, giving way and she tumbled out of the bed with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Her fingers grazed against the silky floral fabric, pulling the house coat off the hook and over her head.

“Good morning!” Claude laughed, propped up on his pillow with his elbow, a wide devilish smile across his face. “How’s the weather down there?” He teased, looking down at her on the floor. “looks like it’s a bit drafty.”

Kiran clumsily tried to cover up with a pillow and pull her housecoat on at the same time. “You should get your things and go home.” She grumbled, pushing herself to her feet and sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her sore neck. She had enough to deal with right now, she didn’t need to add more problems to her life.

“I was thinking maybe we could grab a bite to eat?” he suggestively mused. “Maybe I could take you for a ride on-”

“I thought I made it clear last night Claude.” Kiran sighed as she pulled on her thick wool socks. “This was just for one-”

“Yes, I know. One night.” Claude sat forward, scooting up behind her, his hand sliding around her waist as the other tucked her hair behind her ear. “I heard you the first time you told me.” He leaned over, pulling the loose fabric of her housecoat away and kissing the top of her shoulder, “And the second time.” he chuckled, inching his way up her neck with his lips before turning her face towards his. “And the third time...”

She didn’t resist him, ignoring the logical part of her mind that told her she was making a big mistake. A mistake she continued to make over and over again last night. A mistake that only started off as a lustful act, satisfying some animalistic craving she had suppressed for far too long. After they became more sensual with each other. Exploring, learning and becoming more aware of each other’s wants and desires. By this time, Claude knew exactly what to do to make her want to stay in his arms. It drove her insane that she could have made this mistake, letting someone hold so much power over her, to make her want him like this.

Claude effortlessly pulled Kiran back into bed with him, both of them unaware of the of the familiar sound of the front door of the small home opening, too engrossed with their own pleasure.

 _“Hello?”_ A voice loudly called out from the first floor. _“Anyone home?”_

Kiran breathlessly pulled away, her chest heaving. “Oh no!”

 _“Why is there a horse in our yard?”_ her roommate called out, followed by the sound of the front door closing. _“Eating my vegetables…”_

Her eye’s grew wide and Kiran pushed herself off of Claude. “Ranulf’s back early!” she hopped out of bed and quickly bent over picking up random articles of clothing that had been scattered across the floor, trying desperately to hold them all in her arms. “Quick, get your stuff!”

“Ran… ulf?” Claude muttered, confused. He disappointingly stared up at the ceiling, his arm loosely flopped across the bed in frustration. His eyes widen and he quickly sat-up in the bed, a sudden look of realization crossed his face. “Wait. Am I the… _other guy_?”

“What?!” Kiran stopped, staring at him for a brief moment, alarmed at the question. She shook her head wildly, “No! We’re just roommates.” She told Claude, throwing his pants towards him on the bed. “Here, put these on!”

“That’s a relief.” Claude blew out his cheeks and relaxing his posture. “The last thing I want is to start making more enemies in Askr.” He stretched and swung his legs over the side of the bed, curling his toes on the soft shag rug before sliding each leg into his pants. “Two’s enough, thank-you!”

“Don’t worry.” Kiran mumbled, grabbing her throw blanket from the end of the bed and laying it flat on the floor. She began to place items she collected in the centre. “He would likely just make you breakfast in exchange for your life story.”

Claude chuckled pulling up his pants and standing up in one motion. “That doesn’t sound too bad!”

“Not for you!” she pouted and furrowed her brows as she pulled roughly at the corners of the blanket tying a knot and creating a decent sized bundle. “You can climb right?” Kiran picked up the makeshift package and crossed the room quickly.

“Well, it’s been awhile since I’ve done any - Hey!” Claude cried out as he watched the summoner reach the open door to the balcony and drop the bundle containing his things over the side.

“There’s a wooden lattice beside the balcony. You can use that to get down.” She rushed by him, securing her housecoat and quickly crossing the bedroom towards the door. Kiran stopped, her heart pounding when she turned the knob and she turned back to look at the bewildered archer standing half naked, looking over the edge of the balcony contemplating his escape route. A ping of guilt stirred in the pit of her stomach. She could be brave and just take Claude downstairs like any normal person would, face her mistakes head on like an adult.

“Claude?” she nervously asked, her heart skipping a beat when he hopefully met her gaze. The words she wanted to say ran through her mind, but were caught in her throat. “If you think about using the bushes to cushion your fall, don’t. They’re thorny roses!” she warned him instead, opening the bedroom door and taking the cowards way out.

Kiran skipped two steps at a time down the winding iron staircase that sat at the end of the hallway, running her hand down the cool metal of the railing. She stopped when she saw Ranulf approach from the front sitting room, sitting a few steps from the bottom to greet her friend.

“Ah! You are here, I found this on the floor.” Ranulf handed her the blue sweater that she had tossed aside and left in the sitting room the night before.

“Oh, my sweater, how did it get down here?” She nervously chuckled, putting it by her side.

“You wouldn’t know anything about this horse, would ya?” He stared down at her over the railing.

“A horse? No, sorry.” she bit her lip and looked at the door down the hallway, hoping that Claude had scaled the side of the house by now and was taking care of Edda’s pony while she distracted Ranulf. “Maybe it’s the _neeeighbour’s_?!” Kiran loudly snorted, trailing off in a worried giggle. “You’re not laughing?”

His eyes narrowed as he suspiciously looked at her. “Shouldn’t you be at work right now?”

“I slept in, you know me! Do you want some coffee?” she stood up and skipped down the remaining steps, trying to act casual and gesturing to the kitchen. “I was just going to make…”

Kiran was interrupted by the loud crash of a ceramic pot and the sound horse whinnying coming from behind the front door, which caught Ranulf’s attention. He turned, striding down the hallway.

“How about fish?! You love fish!” Kiran called out behind him, hoping to distract her roommate. She quickly followed him when he didn’t respond to her calls. “Where are you going?” She watched him reach into the sitting room and pick up the Claude’s bow and quiver from the equipment the archer had dropped there the evening before. “Oh no…” she whispered when she saw him grabbed the handle of the front door and swing it open.

Ranulf chuckled, leaning against the door frame and folding his arms. He smirked at Kiran, who was hiding just around the corner of the door across from her friend, mortified and trying not to make eye contact.

“Come on _Freckles_!” Claude cried, pushing against the backside of Edda’s pony with his shoulder. He huffed in exhaustion, bracing himself on the small beast that wouldn’t move. “I’ll buy you all the carrots you can eat, if you just…” he tried the bargain through gritted teeth, giving the animal another nudge. “ _Move_!” He shouted, losing his footing and staggering to is knees as Freckles continue to pull at the sprigs of carrots growing from a garden pot.

“It’s not what you think it is.” Kiran whispered meekly, peeking around the door frame but staying out of sight.

Ranulf snorted doubtfully. “Uh huh.” He had the biggest grin as he watched the struggling archer for a moment, reveling in the scene before sauntering over to Claude, making a brief high-pitch whistle through his teeth. Freckles reared his head at the sound, whickering and shaking his mane. Ranulf placed Claude’s equipment on the ground and took a hold of the reins, calming the small animal by stroking its neck. He looked down at the bewildered archer. “You look like you could use a hand.”

A sweaty and breathless Claude leaned back on his heels, dusting off his dirty gloves on his thighs. “Ah yeah, thanks.” He chuckled nervously, grabbing his weapons and standing up. “I would really appreciate the help!”

“I’m Ranulf.” He pulled at the reins, leading the horse in a small circle, so he could easily coax it out through the gate. “Where are you heading… aah?”

“Claude.” The archer finished Ranulf’s sentence. “I was going to Einn Lane, to take this little guy home. Then… I don’t know.” Claude looked back at the small townhouse and sighed. “The castle, I guess.”

“I planned on heading to the castle soon too, but I can make a detour first!” Ranulf opened the gate, turning back to smile at the archer. “Have you eaten? Kiran introduced me to a wonderful bakery with these amazing breakfast rolls! Come on, I’m buying! You can tell me about yourself on the way!”

“You’ve got yourself a deal!” Claude chuckled, following the Luguz, “Are you sure we shouldn’t invite Kiran?”

“Nah.” Ranulf shook his head, looking at the open front door, he knew she was just around the corner eavesdropping. “I think she has some stuff to sort out on her own. She’ll be fine, trust me.” He reassured Claude, closing the gate to the garden of 1606 Fljót Street. “Besides, she always takes forever trying to figure out what she wants when she gets there!”

She scrunched her nose at Ranulf’s comment, _I don’t take ‘forever!’_ Kiran thought, _I know what I want! Usually…_ _there’s just too many things, it’s hard to focus on just one!_ She huffed and slammed the front door, stomping down the hall towards the bathroom to wash-up and get ready for work. Kiran sighed and looked at her own reflection in the small mirror above the sink, _what do I want?_ She asked herself _._

* * *

Kiran shoved her hands in the pockets of her pants and pursed her lips, taking heavy steps as she walked down the corridor of the castle, her damaged coat loosely hanging over her arm. Ranulf’s comment bothered her all morning and she couldn’t stop the insecure thoughts swirling around in her head. She decided to take the long way to the library. Maybe stop by the garden she liked to walk through to clear her mind before having to do any actual work.

She turned the corner to one of the longer hallways, a popular spot for people to gather. It was crowded with many heroes from the Order taking their tea or having a bite of early lunch in the warm sun that shined through the windows.

Sighing, she continued quietly behind a small group of heroes. They happily chatted away, laughing and discussing the latest recruits or battles they had won, paying no mind to the sour summoner that walk behind them, or at least if they noticed her they didn’t acknowledge it. Many of them given up on getting to know her long ago. It’s not that she wanted to shy away from them, it was just easier this way.

The group that walked ahead of her stopped to talk to a few others near the window, stepping off to the side. Kiran looked up, with a clear view of the hallway, stopping abruptly, her boots scuffing on the stone floor. Her stomach dropped when she spotted Alfonse and Claude talking among themselves outside of Soren’s office. She gasped, dashing into a nearby alcove and hiding in the doorway, praying that they didn’t see her. She pushed her back against the wall, _why did it have to be them?_ She gritted her teeth. She was close enough to just hear them say their farewells to each other as they wrapped up their conversation. Not wanting to be caught by whomever was to walk pass, Kiran grabbed the handle of the door and quietly stepped inside the unknown room, easing it close once she was safely out of sight.

 _I’ll just hide out here for a bit_ , she thought exhaling in relief. Kiran turned, looking around the dim room. An assortment of pillows in piles and drapes hung loosely about. Splashes of contrasting colours and patterns loudly decorated the room. The smells of incense and spiced perfumes clung in the air. She dropped her coat and flopped down on a particularly large and extravagant pillow, sinking in the softness of the down, making her giggle. She closed her eyes, allowing the cushion to embrace her, _Maybe I will just hide out here all afternoon_ , she smiled at the idea, _let the events of last night and this morning become tomorrow’s problems!_

“Breathtaking!” A woman sighed, lying on a large heap of pillows by the window, shrouded by a hanging vail. She let her arm fall to the side, holding a small leather bound book. “The poets of Muspell craft such beautiful love sonnets!” she mused sitting up and pushing the sheer fabric to the side, her long red braid falling loosely over her shoulder. “Such passion! A girl could just simply melt!”

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Surprised, Kiran sat-up, she had recognized the hero right away. Tethys, a dancer that she had met once or twice in passing. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

“That’s quite alright.” Tethys stretched, gracefully pushing herself out of her silken cocoon and lightly walking towards the summoner, her hips swaying rhythmically with each step to some silent tune. “This is a shared space after all.”

“What is this place anyways?” Kiran adjusted her position on the pillow, crossing her legs.

“A room for thought. A few of the more creative types in the Order came together and persuaded Anna to let us have this wonderful place.” Tethys knelt down on the pillows across from Kiran, lounging on her side. “Our own little sanctuary to dream and design, embrace our imaginations.”

“It’s… nice.” Kiran lied, looking around, the busy patterns and bright colours of the decor where not to her typical tastes.

“Do you really think so? I never thought you were one for the whimsical.” Tethys smiled, she could see through the summoner’s lies. “Ever so grounded in the real world you are.”

“Is that how you see me?” Kiran muttered, looking down at her lap.

“It’s hard to tell. ‘Our summoner is so withdrawn and quiet. Does she even care about us?’ At least that’s what they say.” The dancer paused for a second, narrowing her eyes slightly. “I don’t believe it, I have seen you with the people you care about, the way you look at them. You care deeply for them.” Tethys sighed, “However today, you currently do look unhappy, troubled and tired.”

“Just a long night.” The summoner blew out her cheeks, slumping her shoulders.

“Problems of the heart I think.” Tethys mused.

“No!” Kiran’s eyes grew wide. “My heart is just fine!”

“I know the look; I have seen it on many faces before yours!” The dancer hopped up and tip toed over to the summoner’s large pillow, kneeling down, and nudging behind her, taking hold of Kiran’s shoulders. “Here, allow me. Many dancers, such as myself, also practice the art of muscle manipulation on each other. Nothing beats a massage after a long performance!” Tethys proceeded to push the balls her thumbs into Kiran’s back, running them between her spine and her shoulder blades in a circular motion. “Oh! You are very tight!”

“No. I’m fine.” Kiran started to protest and pull away. “I really should go anyways.”

“Still now, You’re safe here.” Tethys tightened her grip and continue to work Kiran’s sore muscles. “Stay, relax. What more could you want?”

Kiran stopped, giving in to the dancer’s hands, mulling over her question. “I don’t know what I want…”

“I see.” She stopped, resting her chin on Kiran’s shoulder. “We have something that might help!” Tethys hopped up gracefully and skipped across the room, pointed toes gracing the smooth floor in small circular motions. “Come with me Dandelion!”

“Dandelion? Like the weed?” Kiran scrunched up her nose, taken back by the odd pet name. “Oh! Or because of my bright and sunny disposition?” She sweetly mused, scrambling to her feet, following the dancer curiously.

“No.” Tethys laughed, placing her hand on top of a large rounded chest lid. She pressed her lips together forming a smile as she looked down at the shorter summoner. “It’s because of your scattered thoughts! Like so many fluffy seeds floating in the wind.”

“Oh.” Kiran grimaced. “That’s less flattering…”

“Don’t take offence.” Tethys tilted her head and lovingly caressed the summoner’s cheek. “Each one of those lovely thoughts are strong like those wayward seeds. Once planted they quickly germinate and grow to create more ideas, spreading and inspiring others.” She placed her hand back on the chest lid, rapping her slender fingers on top, creating a hollow tapping sound. “They just need a bit of water, nutrients and a little focus.”

“What is that?” Kiran looked at the chest suspiciously.

“A floatation pool.” The dancer held fast to the handle and lifted the chest’s lid. The Inside appeared to be a chamber, filled with a few feet of water. “Once inside and the lid is closed it helps us block out the world and let our mind soar, like a waking dream. Perhaps you could benefit from some time to let your thoughts wander on their own too. Give it a try, it could help you discover what you really want!” She told the summoner excitedly, before shrugging her shoulders. “If not, well, at least you will come out a little cleaner anyways.”

“Okay. Why not?” Kiran stared at the still water, curious if something like this would help her figure things out. What did she have to lose anyways. She kicked off her boots and began unbuckling her belt handing articles of clothing to Tethys until she was down to her under garments.

“I will stay right here until your time’s up.” Tethys held her hand, helping Kiran step into the tub and lay down in the warm water, her body floating just below the surface. “But If you want to come out early, just knock and I will have you back in the real world just like that!” the dancer smiled and snapped her delicate fingers. “Safe travels Dandelion. I hope you find the seeds you’re looking for.” Tethys whispered as she gently closed the lid to the chamber, leaving the summoner in the darkness with only her thoughts.

Kiran floated quietly, the only sound was her breathing and the gentle laps of water against the side of the chamber walls. If there was anyone making noise outside she couldn’t hear them. The pitch-black began to play tricks on her, it was so dark that at points she wasn’t even sure if her eyes where open or close. She tried to relax and think about how nice if was to just float in the warm water and be alone. Comforted by the thought that if anyone was looking for her there was no way they would find her here.

As her body drifted and Kiran felt her mind follow suit. Soft pale auras began to form wobbly patterns in the darkness. She felt a calmness as she watched them move fluidly in front of her. The brightness spots of light started to sparkled and become stationary. She recognized the constellations. The stars in the night sky she saw every evening over the river from her balcony. Kiran stared at them briefly before looking around, the world materializing around her and she began to sense things as if she had really been transported there.

She could feel the cold flat stone under her bare feet and the breeze off the water blowing in a fresh earthy smell. The sounds of the river drowned out by the crickets in the garden followed by soft sighing coming from the bedroom. Curious, she turned to follow the noises, pushing the sheer drapes to the side. Kiran froze. Up-right on the bed she saw herself with Claude, embracing each other in ecstasy. Her heart skipped a beat when the figure of herself turned towards her direction, looking at her standing in the balcony doorway, but the Kiran in the bed did not react to her presence. _A memory of last night_ , she realized, _they can’t actually see me._

Watching the vision, Kiran slowly walked around to the other side of the bed. How odd it was to have this perspective, to see herself in this moment. She held on to the post at the end of the bed, _I actually look happy_ , she thought, _is this what I want?_ she turned to looked in the full-length mirror across the room, clutching the wooden bedpost behind her back. _Maybe I should give in to my desires, allow myself to fall love again_?

“Kiran, I -” The memory of Claude whispered, being hushed by the figure he held in his arms. The vision of herself placed her fingers over his lips. “Don’t say anything.” She told him “You’ll just ruin the moment.”

Gritting her teeth and gripping the bed post tightly, Kiran knocked the back of her head against the frame in frustration. _Shit, I forgot. I’m so cruel sometimes_! she scolded herself, _even if I wanted to go down this road again, it never ends well. I would only end up breaking his heart!_ She sighed, _I don’t want that._

Kiran turned her attention to the bedroom door when she heard laughter drifting up from the first floor. She grabbed the short housecoat from the wardrobe hook and left the memory of herself with Claude to their own vices, proceeding to follow the voices coming from downstairs. She slowly descended the winding staircase to find Sakura quickly walking down the hallway towards her, holding a large basket in her arms.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Sakura cried running into the kitchen. “I brought cakes!”

Kiran followed the priestess, entering another memory. If she recalled correctly it was the first week Ranulf and her moved into Fljót House and they had a few close friends over to celebrate. She smiled and watched the vision of the heroes from the doorway of the kitchen. _I miss my friends_ , she thought, _I want to spend more time with them._

“Your face is flushed.” Sothis pointed out smirking, when Sakura entered the kitchen and began unpacking the basket of sweets.

“The mysterious archer again?” Tsubasa’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Have you two set a date yet?” Nils teased.

Sakura’s face flushed and she puffed out her cheeks. “Hush!”

“You should just come clean to your family.” Soren advised, sipping his wine. “You can’t hide this forever.”

“It’s not my family I’m worried about…” Sakura began to explain. “He doesn’t know about them. Or who I am.”

“Wait! You haven’t told him yet?” Laslow’s jaw dropped.

“He’s not… comfortable around royals and nobody knows about us but you guys!” She clasped her hands together, her face distraught. “Please keep it that way!” Sakura begged. “I really like him…”

“Aww, of course Sakura.” Kiran put her arm around her friend and smiled. “After all, what are friends for?!”

They all laughed and Ranulf lifted his glass in a cheers. “Just promise me there will be teriyaki salmon at the wedding!”

Kiran laughed along with her vision, it felt good seeing them again like this. _This is what I want_ , she smiled, _just how it used to be. Back before nightmares and Hel!..._ Her smiled faded, she knew that couldn’t happen. _I can’t go backwards,_ she sighed _, and I don’t want to hold them back either._

She couldn’t watch her friends anymore and looked out down the dark hallway. A young man stood at the front door watching her. Alfonse’s white and gold armour, a beacon in the darkness. A happy contrast to the black that vines cross-hatched around the door, burrowing through the cracks. _This isn’t a memory_ , Kiran thought, walking slowly towards him, _that’s never been there and..._ _he can see me._

“I’m sorry, this isn’t how I wanted things to turn out between us.” Kiran confessed when she approached the young prince.

Alfonse didn’t respond, he just gave her a warm smile when she reached him.

“You’re not really him, are you?” she asked, raising her eye brows.

“No.” Alfonse pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head. “I’m just here as a reminder.”

“To remind me of what?” Kiran narrowed her eyes, she didn’t understand.

“That you need the Order as much as they need you.” He gently told her, ignoring the creeping vines on the door. “Alfonse needs you too. He needs you to take care of the Order right now. He can’t be there as often for them anymore, even though he wants to be.”

“I want to help him protect the heroes in the Order.” Kiran looked at the door, the black tendrils crawled across the wood like leeches searching for water. “But He doesn’t trust me. I’m not sure what I should do.”

“Trust works both ways.” He softly told her, “You have to trust the people in your life to help you.”

“I don’t want them to get hurt.” She looked at the handle of the door and heard scratching coming from behind. “I’m scared of what might happen to them.”

“So am I, but you can’t do this on your own. You’ll be lost without them and they without you.” He shrugged, “Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s not what I want.” Kiran grabbed the door handle, quickly turning it and pulling it open. The vines torn and ripped apart as she did. “I want to stop the nightmares.”

A rush a cool air blew around and pass her, causing goose skin on her legs and arms. Kiran blocked her face and stepped out of her house. Her eyes grew wide when she felt the rough texture of asphalt under her feet. The wind dissipated and she lowered her arms, astonished by what she saw.

She had stepped out on to her street, but not the one in Askr, the one from her own world. Surrounded by tall apartment buildings, parked cars and electric lights that illuminated the night sky. She heard the familiar sounds of traffic in the distance, sirens and loud music, the hustle and bustle of the city’s nightlife down the nearby main streets. Kiran felt a chill run up her spine, she wasn’t alone.

 _“She’s here!?”_ a disembodied voice in the darkness hissed. _“But it’s too early!”_

Kiran turned to see who was there, a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Red eyes in the darkness peering back at her. She wanted her friends with her more than anything else in the world at that very moment. A blinding flash of light came from the alleyway, forcing her to cover her eyes and look away.

“Wake up Dandelion!” Tethys sung, opening the lid to the floatation pool. “Time to come home.”

“Tethys…” Kiran gasped as she sat-up, the water sloshed violently around her.

The dancer held out a long towel, wrapping the summoner as she groggily stepped out of the tub, rubbing her eyes. “How do you feel?” Tethys asked.

Kiran took a moment, breathing deeply. She reflected on what she saw and felt in the chamber. “Really good actually.”

“Wonderful!” Tethys held out Kiran’s clothing and smiled wide. “I’m glad it helped you find what you were looking for.”

“Yeah,” It was so simple once she put her pride aside. Kiran quickly pulled her clothes on over her wet under garments. _I have to find Alfonse and talk to him, then my friends! Be honest and tell them everything!_ She excitedly smiled and hugged Tethys. “I know what I want now and what I need to do!” she called out dashing over pillows as she ran for the door.

She rushed into the corridor, it had become much quieter than earlier. The heroes that crowded the hall in the late morning had gone. Kiran began swiftly walking towards the Royal Council chambers, maybe she could catch Alfonse between meetings, he should be finishing lunch soon.

“Kiran!” Soren called to her from his office as she walked by, he closed the tome he was holding and walked out into the hall, beckoning for her to join him. “There you are, a word please.”

“Can it wait Soren?” she called out, rushing by him. “I’m in a hurry!”

“No, it can’t.” He stared at the defeated summoner as he watched her stop, turn around and slowing walked towards him. “Why are you wet? What happened to your coat?” He shook his head and walked back into his office, muttering and waving his thoughts off. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”

Kiran followed, stepping around stacks of books and various items that had started to pile up on the floor. It didn’t matter how many times she helped him tidy up his office he always found more stuff to collect and fill the empty spaces. “What’s up?”

“New orders.” He picked up an envelope sealed in wax and handed it to her. “Canas is shifting you from research to scouts. He doesn’t feel like you’re focused enough right now to handle the amount of paperwork you have been given.”

“Scouts?” Her eyes grew wide; she had heard that these were the heroes that were sent out to survey various other worlds in search for lost items and history. Kiran tried to hide her excitement.

“Yes, scouts, but nothing too interesting for you. You’ll just be following up on information and day trips in the capital. Pretty much a glorified gopher!” Soren laughed, setting his tome down on his desk.

“That’s alright!” She wore a goofy grin, she didn’t mind sticking around the capital right now, it would be easier to put her plans into motion. “I would like that. Thanks Soren.” She turned to leave, this is going to work out perfectly, she thought to herself.

“Oh, there’s just one thing.” Soren stopped her. “You’ll have a partner. Can’t have you running around on your own.”

“A partner?” Kiran ran her thumb under the wax seal, popping it off the parchment and sliding the orders she had been give out. She gasped as she skimmed her letter. “Claude?” She knew she had to start trusting people to help her, but she didn’t plan on involving Claude, at least not so soon after what happened the previous night between them.

“Yes.” Soren pulled out a wooden box from his shelf, blowing the dust off the top. “You will be working with him for a brief amount of time.”

Kiran began to protest. “But-“

“Ready to go?” Claude appeared in the doorway.

“Go where?” Kiran asked, looking at the archer then to Soren confused.

“I have asked the lieutenant to drop this off for me.” Soren handed her the small wooden box he held. “I found a buyer that wants to see the piece before they commit. The address can be found in the report orders.”

“Lieutenant?!” Kiran’s eyes grew wider and her jaw dropped. “He’s my superior?!”

Soren rolled his eyes and dusted off his hands. “Claude scored exceptionally well on his evaluations. People don’t rise through the ranks based on seniority in Exploration and Acquisitions, you know this, and we would be doing the division a disservice not to have him in a leadership position.” Soren beamed with delight, he was just as impressed with Claude as Canas was. He turned and noticed Kiran’s frustrated pout. “Don’t worry, he most likely won’t be in that position for long. It’s more of a steppingstone and so others don’t get their feathers to ruffled.” Soren chuckled and excused them with a wave of his hand.

Kiran grumbled, dragging her feet as she followed Claude out into the corridor, staring angrily at the box she held. She didn’t have time for this. She needed to talk to Alfonse and figure out her next step.

Claude stopped, waiting for her to catch up at the end of the hallway. He smirked down at her, smugly folded his arms. “Well I guess this would make you my assistant now!”

“Great. Exactly what I wanted…” Kiran sarcastically mumbled, ignoring the archer. _No big deal,_ she thought _, I will think of something. Maybe I could use this to my advantage! He was smart after all._ She smiled and looked ahead. _I’m not going to let anything stop me from getting what I want now!_


	3. Nýr Hetjudans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran is finally ready to put aside past conflicts she has had with Alfonse and confide in him with her many issues. Except there's only one catch. She has to attend Nýr Hetjudans, Askr's New Heroes Dance, in order to meet with the young prince and put her plans in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Sept. 14, 2020. "The Order meets Mirabilis, who draws them deeper into nightmare."
> 
> Yes, I love puffy dresses.  
> Yes, it’s 86% fluff.  
> Yes, it's an ballroom off-prompt.

Kiran stared at the mirabilises as they slowly opened in the afternoon sun. Sitting on the fountain basin she enjoyed the warmth and the cool mist from the water that flowed behind her in one of the capital’s small city parks. She was thankful she didn’t need to wear her damaged coat, that sat beside her with the wooden box Soren’s ask Claude and her to deliver.

She sighed, watching the flowers sway in the breeze. The gentle pink and purple petals fluttered as the leaves whirled around in a hypnotizing dance. Kiran’s vision began to blur and she daydreamed about what she was going to tell Alfonse when she arrived back at the castle. She was sure this little side quest wouldn’t take too long and she could get back to more important matters at hand. She imagined herself sitting the young prince down and then informing him of every little detail that has happened to her in the last couple of months. Everything that Líf told her and everything she had saw. If he even tried once to interrupt her, she would be strong and shut him down. Kiran grinned as she fantasized, _I’ll make him listen to me for once!_

“Hello? Anyone home?” Claude whistled, shaking a copper cup of cold lemonade in front of her face, the ice rattling around. “This should help you wake-up.”

“Oh!” Kiran sat-up startled. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” She felt a bit groggy, like she had just been awoken from a dream. Kiran thanked him, accepting the cool drink he had picked up from a nearby cart. “You know it would have been faster if you had flown your wyvern and left me at the castle.”

“Yeah, but by the time I would have trekked up to the stables on Askr’s Roost and saddled-up it would have taken me just as long.” Claude scraped his boots on the cobble stone as he sat down next to her. “Besides, this way I can enjoy a nice afternoon stroll and try to work-off that giant breakfast roll from this morning! Your friend can eat!”

“So…” Kiran looked down at her copper cup with the small ice cubes bobbing around. It was hard to believe that the events that took place last night and this morning happened only a few hours ago. “What did you and Ranulf talk about this morning anyways?”

“Not you, if that’s what you wondering!” Claude laughed, drinking from his cup. “Mostly about our own worlds. Turns out we have a lot in common!”

“Good.” She nodded and pressed her lips together, trying not to make it awkward between them. Claude was her superior now in Exploration and Acquisitions. She would be reporting to him on a daily bases and the faster they could put their night together behind them the better. She brought her drink up to her face, “I’m glad to hear it.” She finished the small cup and placed it beside her. Kiran noticed the box Soren had given them to deliver and picked it up, setting in in her lap. “Hey, did Soren tell you what’s in the box?”

“He didn’t say.” He finished his drink, placing the cup at his feet. “Go on, open it.”

“Really?” Kiran’s eyes widened and she stared at the box in wonder. Her mind spun with worst case scenarios of what could be. It could be anything, she thought. Who knows what Soren keeps in his office. What if it’s dangerous? Like Pandora’s box, and we unleash some sort of apocalypse on Askr? We probably shouldn’t open it, there’s too many people around. Nothing good could come of this.

“It’s just a box Kiran.” Claude chuckled, noticing the concern on her face. He took it from her lap. “Here.” He unlatched the small brass hook on the front, gripping the sides and slowly pushing the lid open with his thumbs. His eyes widen and he gasped, shutting the lid and giving Kiran a worried look.

“What is it?!” Kiran pressed, concerned. She was right, there was something strange about the box!

“It’s…” Claude turned the box towards her and quickly pulled the lid up making her jump, knocking her cup in the water. “Just a ladies’ hair clip.” He teased, a wide devilish grin on his face.

“Claude!” Kiran punched him in the shoulder, turning a deep shade of red.

“I’m sorry!” He flinched, laughing and handing her the box. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Kiran snatched the box away in a huff. She hoped the shade of her cheeks would be passed off as a fit of anger instead of reflecting her true feelings. That she was actually enjoying Claude’s company. She looked down at the hair clip, the soft white assortment of feathers fanned out like a large wing. Each feather was pure white but when held at the right angle shone with hues of purples and blues. “Wow, it’s beautiful.” Kiran whispered, entranced by the piece. “Askr’s Wing, I have never seen anything like this!”

“Askr’s Wing?” Claude repeated, pulling the cup that dropped in the fountain out and giving it a shake with his hand. Placing it with the other below him. “Their dragon god? You know, it’s rare to see a dragon with feathered wings.”

“Yeah, whether the god actually has feathers, I don’t think anyone really knows, but it’s why you see a lot of feathers being used in their culture.” She explained, closing the lid and latching the box with its hook. “They hold a symbolic value in Askr. Same with the other Zenith powers.” Kiran paused, turning her attention to the flowers spinning away with every gust of wind. A vision of herself fighting with Breidablik on Midgard’s Shield, her coat flapping in the wind and hair pulled back with this beautiful hairclip. _It would look so good_ , she smirked, _so… powerful_! “I wonder how much Soren is asking for it?”

Claude reached inside his belt pouch, pulling out the orders Soren had given him. He read the card, making a loud snort before showing Kiran. “About this much.”

Her jaw dropped and the vision of her with the hair clip majestically saving Askr turned into another distant dream. “That’s like 3 months’ payment towards my loan from Anna!” Kiran groaned slouching over the box.

“Well, in that case, we better not keep the buyer waiting!” He folded the order and tucked it away, picking up the empty cups and placing them on the cart’s carousel. “Come on! Break time is over!” Claude announced taking the box from Kiran.

“Great. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back to the castle!” Kiran stood up, stretching and grabbed her coat. “I really need to talk to Alfonse… about Order business. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Oh?” Claude waited at the edge of the park for her to catch-up before proceeding down the street together. “Might be kind of hard to get a moment with him now. Alfonse will most likely be busy getting preened for the Nýr Hetjudans tonight!”

Kiran stopped, her eyes growing wide. “Nýr Hetjudans?! Tonight?!” she groaned, with everything going on she had lost track of the dates. “Oh no, I totally forgot!” The New Heroes dance would throw a wrench in her plans to talk to Alfonse when she returned to the castle.

“Well you’ll see him there.” Claude shrugged, turning down a side street. “Just talk to him then.”

“I wasn’t planning on going this year.” She grumbled, pursing her lips and letting her heels drag. “It’s always so fancy and I’m always so… awkward. I’ll just end up at the buffet stuffing my face all night again.”

“A free meal is never a bad thing!” He chuckled, turning and walking backwards, his face lit up. “You should come! I bet I can eat more cream puffs than you!”

Kiran couldn’t help but smile, Claude’s excitement was infectious. “Tempting! But I don’t have anything to wear and there’s no way I’m showing up in this!” She held out her dirty and torn coat from the other night. “Which reminds me, do you mind if I stop into the tailors while you take care of that? I want to drop my coat off to be fixed.” She asked pointing at a local shop with a worn wooden sign hanging over its door that read ‘A&A: Sew Chic.’

“Sure, but doesn’t the Order provide a cleaning and repair service back at the castle?” Claude rubbed his chin. Looking at the shop’s sign.

She turned her nose to the sky, folding her arms. “I’ll have you know that Anitra and Anneke are superior seamstresses and I want to support the local businesses in my community!” Kiran dug her hand into her pants pocket, and pulled out a small card holding it out for him to see, smirking. “Plus, my tenth visit is on the house! So I can get my coat fixed for free today!”

“Tenth visit?!” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing. “Oh I get it. You maxed out your yearly budget for the Order’s services, didn’t you?”

Kiran dropped her arm defeated and turned bright red, “Shut up Claude!” she roughly opened the door to the shop, loudly clanging the bell above the door and letting it close hard behind her.

She stopped and looked around the narrow dress shop, women of all ages and sizes crowded the store, talking loudly as they pawed through the garments that hung on the racks. Kiran dodged aside, just avoiding two young women who were fighting over a silk scarf, tugging it and crying that ‘they were the ones to have seen it first’! She grimaced, this was just a reminder why she didn’t go to events like Nýr Hetjudans, they were always just too much work and stress.

Reaching the register counter Kiran found Anitra, the oldest of the two shop sisters, hastily writing up a patron’s bill, her red, tight curls piled on her head bouncing as she looked back and forth calculating her numbers. Anitra looked up and over her small spectacles that hung on the tip of her pointy nose.

“Kiran! Not again, honestly!” she squawked in her thick northern Askran accent. “Just hold on one moment!”

“You two seem pretty busy.” Kiran leaned on the counter with her elbows and looked around the stone. Boxes and dresses thrown about. Frustrated customers turning red as they tried to share mirrors with each other. Making rude comments and rubbing each other the wrong way. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

“Nýr Hetjudans! We are completely run off our feet with last minute alterations!” Anitra huffed, the ruffles of her tight dress shook and she pointed to a chair behind her. “Just throw your coat there and we’ll get to work on it tomorrow!”

“Oh!” Kiran placed the small card she was holding on the counter. “I also have a free redeem!”

“Yes, yes!” Anitra waved off Kiran, coming around the counter, her high heels clicking as she did. “We will get to it when we can, Kiran!”

“Anitra! We have a problem!” A young woman shuffled up, her modest dress covered in pincushions and her arms full of different fabrics. “Ms. Mjög Ríkur is demanding to see her granddaughters dress on someone or she’s walking out! But neither of us are the right size!” Anneke cried, her stringy brown hair falling out of her bun and mixing with the tailors tape she had hanging around her shoulders.

“For Askr’s sake!” Anitra threw her hands up in frustration. “That woman will be the end of us! She has been nothing but trouble since she stepped in the shop!” She pressed her lips together, tapping her painted fingernail on the counter, thinking. She Glanced over to the Kiran who was flipping through a style guide and her face lit up, the corners of her cherry lips curled. “Kiran! You’re the right size!” she grabbed the summoner by the wrist and pulled her towards the dressing rooms.

“Wait! No!” Kiran cried, bracing herself on the frame of the small room, refusing to cooperate. “I’m supposed to be working right now!”

“Please!” Anneke begged with sad doe-eyes, holding the curtain open. A large ball gown in her arms. “We need her recommendation! If Ms. Mjög Ríkur endorses us we will have much more of Askr’s wealthy come for our services!”

Kiran gritted her teeth, letting out a groan. “Fine!” she stomped her foot, giving in to their request. The sisters had opened up their shop around the same time Kiran bought her house in the city and they had formed a kind of kinship base on both parties being new to living in the capital. “But we have to make it fast! I don’t want anyone I know to see me” she told the seamstress, sliding the curtain close, the copper rings clanging on each other.

Anneke squeaked in excitement, pulling Kiran’s sweater off and preparing the gown in the dressing room, while the summoner removed her belt. The seamstress lowered the piles of fabric and frills over Kiran’s head. Taking care to slip her raised arms trough the right openings. Once secure they both allowed the billows of fabric to fall around her feet. Anneke spun the summoner away from her and grasped the ribbons of the bodice. “Okay, deep breath!” she instructed, pulling them quickly and catching Kiran off guard, causing her to cough and gasp.

The rings rattled again. Anitra pulled the curtain open and gasped, “Don’t you look lovely.” she whispered taking Kiran’s hand and leading her to the small showroom area and helping her step-up on a small platform in front of a semicircle of full-length mirrors. Kiran looked at her reflection, the ball gown was beautiful and it was unlike anything she had ever worn in her life.

“It fits like a glove my girl.” Anneke smiled, puffing the dress and making sure it was sitting correctly.

Kiran blushed and looked back in the mirrors. The soft colours and flowing fabrics and feathers reminded her of the mirabilises in the park, her mind wandered with the thought of dancing in the flowing gown, feathers fluttering, and jewels sparkling. Spinning around and around in a golden room lit with thousands of candles. She was so entranced with herself and the dress she wore she had completely forgot of the patron she was modeling it for.

“Hmph.” An old thin woman, sitting in a large chair in the corner grunted. She slowly pushed herself up from the chair with her cane in one hand and the help of a young snooty looking man. They both wore layers on layers of elaborate upscale clothes. The woman approached glaring at the dress in the mirror, circling to the front of Kiran. She stopped, scrunching her nose as she looked up at the summoner. “Is it just me Bjónn,” she addressed the young man with her. “or it looks a bit, I don’t know, tight?”

“Kiran is a bit larger in the bust than Eryka, it’s true.” Anneke began to meekly explain, rubbing her hands together nervously. “The dress is meant to accentuate these… assets. Just as you requested. Trust me Madam Mjög Ríkur, the dress will fit your granddaughter too!”

“Well I guess it can’t be helped.” The old woman scoffed. “This one is… softer than my Eryka.”

“Careful when choosing your words Ms. Mjög Ríkur.” Anitra folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the Order’s summoner you speak of.”

“Summoner?!” She repeated, her milky cold eyes grew wide, and she looked up at Kiran in surprise.

Not knowing how to respond, Kiran gave the woman a small shrug and forced an awkward smile.

Ms. Mjög Ríkur’s look of surprise melted away, her face growing stern and her eyes narrowed into slits as she stared at the summoner in silence for a moment before turning her back and hobbling away. “No. I don’t think I’ll take it. Too many feathers!” she sneered, waving her hand. “Come Bjónn, good thing we had a few dresses made for this occasion!”

Kiran felt a twinge of panic, was it because of her this woman is leaving? “I’m sure if you just remove the feathers Ma’am it will be fine!” she called out as the two clients walked out, the bell above the door loudly clanging and she began to step down from the platform to chase after them.

“Let her go Kiran.” Anitra stopped her, squeezing the summoner’s hands in her own. “We don’t need her lot around here.”

“I’m so sorry, I just feel somewhat responsible.” Kiran frowned, concerned this was all her fault.

“It’s fine my girl, we’ll survive.” Anitra reassured the summoner. “Besides, you give us plenty of work around here!” She chuckled.

Sighing, Anneke looked at Kiran in the dress. “It’s a shame this gown isn’t going to make it to the Nýr Hetjudans. It would have been a showstopper!”

“I’ll buy it.” The three women turned in surprise to find a young man, leaning on a nearby dress rack. He bit his lip and wore a wide grin across his face as he watched them.

“Claude?!” Kiran panicked and instinctively tried to cover up the large ball gown she was wearing with her hands _. I would rather him see me naked than in this,_ she thought. “What are you doing back so soon? You still have the box Soren gave us!”

“The buyer didn’t show up.” He shrugged, sauntering over to the summoner standing on the platform and looked up at her. He raised his eyebrow and smirked at her. “Anyways, I will purchase the gown. As long as you agree to wear it to the ball tonight.”

Kiran froze, her heart was beating rapidly in her chest as she looked from Claude to the two sisters whose eyes were wide and hopeful, eagerly waiting with baited breath for her response. She didn’t want to disappoint Anitra and Anneke and at least she would get a chance to talk to Alfonse tonight if she did go.

“Of… course.” She said through clenched teeth, forcing a smile. “I can do that…”

“Kiran my girl!” Anitra jumped up excitedly, her red curls bouncing, her heels clacking as she made her way across the room to the cash register as fast as her tight dress could allow her long legs. “Once again you have saved us from ruin!” she called out in triumph.

“Let me get a box for you!” Anneke beamed and rushed into the back room.

Before Claude could leave to follow Anitra, Kiran grabbed his sleeve. “You can’t afford this!” She hissed at him. “You haven’t even been here a month yet!”

“Don’t worry about it.” He grinned and pulled out a hefty coin pouch from his belt. “Let’s just say the Exploration division wasn’t the only one trying to recruit me and I know how to play my cards right.”

Claude gave the stunned summoner a quick wink, pulling away and walking off to join Anitra at the counter.

“You really do look lovely.” Anneke commented, having quietly returned, placing the dress box and tissue papers on an empty chair. She helped Kiran down, escorting her to the dressing room. “Glowing in fact! I bet your handsome friend there has something to do with that.” She mused, giggling to herself.

“No! I don’t even know him that well!” Kiran protested while Anneke unstrung the back of the gown. “He’s actually my supervisor.” She confessed, hoping the seamstress would drop the subject.

“Your supervisor? Well, that’s a shame because it feels like more, if you ask me.” She continued, removing the dress and hanging it up. “But what do I know? I’m just your seamstress!” She happily shrugged trying to hide a smile and pulling the curtain open. “I will have this boxed up and delivered to your home in a jiffy!” Anneke took the gown, leaving Kiran on her own to dress herself.

Kiran sighed, taking a moment to catch her breath. _How do I get myself in these situations?_ She thought shaking her head. Even if she wanted something more it would be inappropriate to pursue it. She pulled on her blue sweater and buckled up her belt, exiting the dressing room and joining Anitra at the counter, no archer in sight. “Where did Claude go?”

“Oh!” She looked up from her work, cherry lips in a tight grin. “Your ‘ _gentleman friend’_ paid for the gown and asked me to tell you he would see you at the Nýr Hetjudans tonight!” The seamstress wiggled her nose, scrunching up her face. “How exciting! I have always daydreamed about going to a fancy ball! You must tell us everything when you come to pick-up your coat!”

“Sure.” Kiran laughed, she didn’t want to bring Anitra’s good mood down and tell her she was just going to go to the ball, eat until she broke a seam and most likely spill cocktail sauce all over the gown. She placed her hand on the seamstresses. “But trust me. Daydreaming is always better than the real thing!”

* * *

Melodies from the orchestra drifted into the lobby outside the ballroom and down the hallways of the castle. The low hum of strings fading away as the waltz ended, followed by thunderous applauding. A quiet pause before the music would start-up again in an endless loop. Kiran sneered at her reflection in the large mirror hanging in the lobby, pulling at the blonde waves that hung loose around her bare shoulders in frustration. She was stalling before having to enter the crowded ballroom of heroes and Askr’s elite.

The scent of the mirabilises that decorated the lobby and the nearby balcony clung in the air. She had arrived late to the Nýr Hetjudans. She had dragged her heels the entire time she took to get ready after taking a long hot bath once she made it home that afternoon. But for all the time she had taken, she still didn’t feel ready to step into that room. Kiran cursed under her breath and gave up on her hair, flopping down on the round sofa, the layers of the gown puffing out around her and slowly deflating. She didn’t know why she even cared that much, she was just here to speak to Alfonse. _I probably should have just waited until tomorrow_ , she thought _, stayed home tonight regardless of my promise._

“Kiran! There you are!” Claude stepped out of the ballroom, striding over to where she sat, his face flushed from the warm environment of the crowded space. “The buffet is almost empty, you’ve officially forfeit our competition, which means, I win!” he laughed, in good spirits. He reached out his hand, offering to help her off the couch. “What are you doing out here on your own anyways? Surely our brave summoner isn’t scared of a little soirée?” He laughed pulling her up.

“No!” she didn’t want to admit that she did feel a bit nervous being there. She always felt like she was under a microscope at these events. Walking back to the mirror and huffing in frustration. “It’s just, I can’t... Figure out what to do with my hair.”

“Well, you’re in luck!” Claude gently pulled out the hair clip Soren was trying to sell from a small velvet pouch he had. He moved behind her. “Hold this.” He instructed, placing the delicate piece in her hands.

“Askr’s Wing?!” she looked down at the clip, the white feathers cascading over her fingers. “No. I can’t!” Kiran shook her head; she couldn’t accept this. “You’ve already done enough Claude!”

“Hold still! Don’t get ahead of yourself, I didn’t buy it.” He swept up the loose tendrils of hair he could, the tips of his fingers sent shivers up her spine. “I just… borrowed it. I thought it would look nice with the gown. Besides, what Soren doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Claude chuckled, twisting the mass of waves and securing them with the feather clip. He took moment to admire his handiwork, his hands lingering on her bare shoulders and he smiled at the blushing summoner in the mirror while she stared at her reflection. “Now, come on. I want to see your dance moves!” His hand found hers, pulling her towards the ballroom, snapping her out of her daydream.

“Oh no! Not happening!” her eyes grew wide and she slowed her pace. “I actually don’t know how to dance that well.” She confessed.

“What?!” Claude stopped, his boots scuffing against the stone floor, he looked at her in disbelief.

“Alfonse tried to teach me once, but it’s been so long. I just don’t want people to know I’m not very good.” Kiran looked in the ballroom at all the dancing heroes, primed and proper, gracefully spinning around in circles.

“Well, how about a refresher!” Claude grinned, pulling her into the open air of the balcony on the other end of the lobby.

“No. It’s fine, I can just watch from the side.” Kiran’s protest fell on deaf ears. He raised their clasped hands, placing her arms on his and taking hold of her waist.

“Arms up, chin up.” Claude instructed quickly, not wanting to miss the next round as the tune of the waltz began. “And… “

Kiran’s heart skipped a beat, her mind tried to keep-up with what was happening, scrambling to remember her past lessons. She quickly stepped forward colliding with Claude’s shin.

His eyes grew wide and he shifted his weight, favoring the injured leg. “The other direction.” He told her through clenched teeth.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Kiran panicked, tensing up. She was mortified she couldn’t even get the first step right.

“It’s okay!” Claude took a deep breath, shaking it off and encouraging her to do the same with him. “Relax, you’re shaking too much. Just let me lead you.” He took hold of her once again and listened for the right beat to begin. “Don’t look down, look at me. Let’s try again.”

Kiran locked eyes with Claude, pressing her lips together in determination. She tried to listened to the beat as well, pushing any thoughts that distracted her aside and clearing her mind. Kiran took a step, her foot moving forward at exactly the right time, coming down on Claude’s foot with her heel, causing him to yelp and jump away. He winced, swearing under his breath. Kiran shut her eyes tight. “Oops.” She squeaked out.

He hobbled in a small circle, powering through the pain. “You’re not use to letting others lead, are you?” Claude chuckled, dabbing his eyes with the side of his finger, sniffing.

“I guess not.” She meekly said, lowering her eyes and rubbing her arm.

“Good leaders also need to be good followers.” He gently raised her chin with his finger and she did the same with her eyes. “They can’t do everything themselves. They know when to let others take over and help their cause.” Claude placed his arm under hers, raising their hands together once again. “You know dancing and fighting are pretty similar. Continuous practice yields the best results.”

Kiran nodded and looked into his eyes. There was a sparkle there she had not noticed before. A light that drew her in. Her mind cleared on its own for once and could focus on the direction of her steps, forcing herself to move back when Claude pushed forward, leading her in a slow circle.

“Better.” Claude smiled, not missing a step to the dance. “See, you’re getting it. Just stick to the slow waltzes and you’ll be fine.”

The tune of the waltz playing from the ballroom concluded, but Claude continued to slowly turn. He slid his hand to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him and turning their clasped hand inward, placing them on his chest. He looked at peace as he rested his forehead against hers, strands of dark hair falling forward. “Kiran I will always be there to help you.” He whispered softly. “You only have to ask.”

Kiran’s heart raced, she wanted nothing more than to stay on the balcony all night in his arms. _No I can’t,_ she closed her eyes, _I have to talk to Alfonse and I can’t let feelings distract me from that._ “Claude, I-“

“Don’t say anything.” Claude interrupted her, nudging his nose against hers. “You’ll just ruin the moment.”

“I deserve that.” Kiran admitted, she chuckled and nodded slightly.

“Yes you do.” he grinned and moved his lips over hers.

Kiran didn’t shy away, letting the waves of emotion sweep through her body as his mouth brushed against hers lightly. She knew they should stop; this wasn’t an option for them anymore. _Maybe we can start fresh tomorrow_ , she thought, _like the last two days never happened._

She started to push herself closer until she heard laughter coming from the lobby. She froze before turning to look. A few tipsy heroes had their arms around each other’s shoulders and stumbled onto the balcony to get some air. Kiran hastily pulled away from Claude, she didn’t want the other heroes to see her in his arms, not that these two would have remembered if they had.

Claude sighed, chuckling at the same time. He knew it was time to go. “Come on, let’s find that prince of yours.” He held out his arm for her to take.

“Yes, good.” Kiran cleared her throat, trying to compose herself, allowing him to lead her off the balcony and across the lobby.

They entered the ballroom together as the current waltz came to an end. Rows of blue and gold banners hung from the ceiling, staggered with large candle lit chandeliers. The guests stood clapping for a moment before they scattered off, some changing dance partners, others walking off to mingle in small groups. It was loud and hot, but no one seemed to mind. Claude called out over the noise that he had spotted Ranulf with a few other heroes, pulling Kiran through the sea of guests, holding her hand so not to lose her in the crowded space.

“Kiran!” Someone else cried out her name causing the summoner to stop. “I’m so glad you’re here!” Sharena pushed her way through, grabbing Kiran’s arm and embracing her. Kiran caught Claude’s eye, signaling for him to continue on without her. He noticed the Askran princess and nodded he understood.

“Oh my gosh! I love your dress!” Sharena stood back, still latched on to Kiran’s arms and inspected the summoner head to toe. “You look so pretty!” she squealed.

“You too Sharena.” It was hard not to smile in the princess’s presence, she always looked so happy and beautiful, it was in her nature to spread her sunny attitude. Kiran glanced at the Askran royal badge she had on her gown, remembering why she was there. “Where is your brother? I need to talk to him.”

“Alfonse? He was stuck in some stuffy aristocratic meet-up with mother. I’m sure if he is not here he will be soon!” The princess looped her arm through Kiran’s and started to lead her around the perimeter of the dance floor, leaning in close and quietly chatting. “It feels like every single lady from court has come out tonight to meet him!” Sharena giggled, the guests would part upon seeing her, giving her space to walk where she pleased. “They all seem so silly to me, fawning and falling over each other for his attention!” The princess’s face lit up and she pointed to a large crowd of people across the room. “Oh there he is!”

Kiran strained her neck to see. The princess had the advantage of height, but she thought she saw Alfonse too, she pulled her arm from the princess’s. “Thanks Sharena, We’ll catch up soon!” Kiran wanted to across the dance floor before the next waltz began.

“Good luck! Don’t be afraid to step on a few toes!” Sharena giggled, happily waving, moving her fingers individually.

Kiran weaved through the guests on the dance floor, many waiting for the next waltz to begin. Alfonse was there, she could see him now beside the queen, entertaining a group of ladies. Kiran gathered her heavy skirting in both hands to pick-up the pace, squeezing past a few gentlemen standing on the side of the dancefloor. _Finally,_ she thought, _soon everything will be alright._ She pushed ahead until she felt someone tightly grip her by the arm, pulling her roughly back.

“I’m sorry missy, you can’t just walk-up and start chit-chatting with the Prince of Askr.” One of the men she had past scolded her.

“Huh?” Kiran tried to break free from him. Brushing him off. “It’s fine, I won’t be long.”

“I don’t think you understand.” The thin man held fast. “The prince is very popular. You need to be invited by the proper channels. No different than any other starry-eyed gilt that trotted in on their noisy hooves.”

“I’m the summoner for the Order of Heroes.” Kiran angrily announced pulling her arm from his grasp. “Alfonse won’t mind, really.”

“Kiran?! My apologies.” The man’s eyes grew wide and he bowed slightly. “I didn’t recognize you without your… frumpy coat.” A cruel grinned stretched across his face. “You clean up well don’t you? You must do me the honour of at least one dance.”

The man’s rude comment hit her like a slap in the face. Stunned, Kiran took a breath, trying not to give into her anxieties and fears. “I’m sorry. I really don’t have the time, um?”

“Councilor Edzard Mjög Ríkur. And I think you do have the time.” He reached out, grasping her arm again, roughly tugging her towards the dance floor and sneering in her ear. “After all you don’t want people talking about how rude the Order’s summoner is to members of the Askran small council.”

“You’re on the small council?” Kiran wasn’t sure how to respond to him. This wasn’t an enemy she could physically fight off. Edzard was an Askran citizen and apparently an important one. She couldn’t snub him, their opinions held too much weight to the future of the Order.

“I am. My family is quite influential in the Askran court.” Edzard stopped, preparing to dance, forcing her arms higher than she was naturally comfortable with.

Kiran narrowed her eyes, _don’t mess this up,_ she told herself, _just focus on your feet._ The orchestra started to play and she stepped backwards, allowing this stranger to lead her. She proudly smirked, waiting a few turns of the waltz and finding her groove. “So you didn’t exactly “earn” your place on the council. That’s what you’re saying.” She smugly commented.

“You think you’re a clever girl, don’t you?” Edzard scoffed, looking down his nose at her. “You know, it’s always the ones that think they are clever that make the biggest mistakes.”

His comment made her skin crawl, it took every fibre in her being not to push him off at that very moment. “I really need to talk to Alfonse. Thank-you for the dance but I’m going to cut this short.” Kiran announced through gritted teeth, trying to sound strong and pulling away.

Edzard tightened his grip around her hand and waist. Digging his long fingers into her side. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her steps became sloppy, but he continued to lead her, dragging and stumbling until she complied. “You’re hurting me!”

“I can do much more than hurt you if you don’t cooperate.” He sneered, pulling her uncomfortably close.

“Let go, or I will report you to the prince.” Kiran threatened him, trying to put space between them.

“Oh I wouldn’t involve Alfonse.” Edzard’s grin faded. The expression on his face became menacing. “In fact, if you really care for him, you’ll keep your distance from our dear prince.” He leaned in, whispering in her ear. “You see; you really don’t have friends here at court. They don’t like how an outsider, such as yourself, can be so close to their future king.”

“You’re insane.” She hissed through her teeth.

“That’s rich! It’s exactly what they are saying about you!” Edzard laughed maniacally, his eyes growing wider as he continued to spin her in their dance. “Touched in the head, they whisper. Seeing things in the shadows, sleeping between the stacks in the royal library like some kind of street urchin! Worst yet. Running off into unknown worlds with our gravest of enemies to do… who knows what? People are suspicious of you.” He gave her a condescending pout. “I would hate for the rumours of your mental instability to effect the stability of Alfonse’s position for the throne.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kiran quietly asked, trying to hold her emotions in check, the conversation coupled with the spinning room were making her sick.

“A change to the throne would mean a change to the court and I have no interest in stepping down from my position. Think of this as more of a warning than a threat.” Edzard squeezed her hand tightly, giggling through his clenched smile. The music began to die down and he slowed his steps, rolling his eyes. “Oh don’t look so upset! It’s not becoming of you and you don’t want people to talk, do you?”

Kiran looked at her surroundings, no one she had known was around them and each one would quickly look away if they met their eyes with hers. She looked down, trying to catch her breath and hide her emotions from them. “Are we done here?”

“For now.” He released her arms without warning, dropping her like a rag doll. Edzard roughly brought her hand up to his face. “Oh Kiran, you should consider getting better dance lessons. Your moves aren’t going to cut it here in Askr.” He smirked, laughing to himself and kissing her hand.

Kiran felt nauseous, pulling her hand away and pushing through the crowded room. She had to get some air, she felt like the world was spinning out of control. She gasped for breath when she reached the lobby again, her chest heaving in her tight bodice. _Who was the man?_ Her mind was racing, trying to understand what had just happened. _Edzard? Edzard, what? Damn it. I don’t remember. What I’m I going to tell Alfonse?_ _No wait, I can’t risk going to him... What if it’s true what they are saying about me?_ She felt a cold numbness wash over her. _What do I do now?_

“There you are! I was just going to call it a night.” Claude appeared in the ballroom archway and strode over to her. “Did you get to talk to Alfonse?”

“No. He was busy.” Kiran shook her head, taking a deep breath and trying to shake off what had happened. She didn’t want people to know how rattled she was. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah well, it’s been a couple of long days.” He chuckled, shifting his weight. “I thought I would turn in early, but I wanted to say goodnight first.”

“That’s probably a good idea and I should do the same.” All of a sudden she felt incredibly tired too. Everything was starting to feel like an uphill battle. Problems following her wherever she went, she hated that she no longer could control what was happening around her, that things were effecting the people in her life now. “I’m sorry for any trouble I caused you.”

“You did warn me!” he laughed, moving closer, and taking her hands in his. Claude’s thumb felt nice, as he gently caressed the back of her sore hand. “But the truth is, I enjoyed every moment I spent with you Kiran.”

She didn’t know what to say. Kiran knew she should bury her feelings, but part of her wanted to scream that felt the same way. That it wasn’t her that had the light inside them. It was him. “Claude…”

“I know; you don’t have to say it twice this time. You were right. It’s not a good time for you. For either of us really!” Claude chuckled as he shrugged. “I’m going to assume there are rules about superiors and their subordinates in the Order anyways.”

Kiran laughed. She was so close to making another misstep, but she nodded in agreement. “That’s a safe assumption.” She reached up and unclasped the feather hair clip, shaking her waves out and handing it back to the archer. “You should make sure this gets back before Soren realizes it’s gone.”

“Thanks.” Claude accepted the hair clip, taking his time putting it away. It appeared that was something more he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words. He sighed and leaned over, “Goodnight Kiran” He touched the side of her chin with the tips of his fingers and pressed his lips against her forehead. “Sweet dreams.” Claude quietly told her, taking a moment to smile before turning to leave.

She tried to put on a brave face as she watched him go, but her smile quickly faded. The cold of her reality seeped back in and it chilled her to the bone. There were no sweet dreams that awaited her tonight. _I’m so scared,_ she thought _._ Kiran felt her eyes sting, shutting them tightly and holding her sides, allowing the tears to flow over her cheeks when she opened them, _I don’t want to be alone anymore!_ “Claude wait!” she croaked, chasing after him.

“What is it?” He turned in surprise, furrowing his brows in concern when he saw her face. “What’s wrong?”

“You said you would always be there to help?” Kiran collapsed in his arms, embracing him. “I just had to ask?”

“Of course.” He held her head against his chest, softly touching her hair.

Kiran took a deep breath. She could feel more tears flowing over her cheeks, hot against her skin. “I need help; a friend I can trust.” Sniffing she stood back, wiping her tears. “I need someone who will just listen to me before they say or question anything about what I say!”

“I can do that.” Claude nodded, unclasping his cape and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Let’s go for a walk. We’ll find somewhere quiet. You can tell me everything you want.” He placed his arm around her back, supporting her and leading her away from the ballroom. “I won’t say a word until you’re done.”

“Thank-you.” Kiran exhaled, it was the first time in weeks that she felt at ease. Asking for help seemed like it had been the hardest step she had to take to move forward and she was already starting to feel a bit relieved for taking the chance with him. “I just can’t keep doing this on my own.” Kiran quietly confessed, before she plunged in and revealed everything she saw and heard over the past few months in Askr. Including every nightmare and shadow she was ever forced to live with as Claude quietly listened.


	4. Álfr on a Shelf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after Nýr Hetjudans has proved to be fruitful. Claude and Kiran follow-up on a lead that Líf gives them to move forward in their quest for more information about the álfr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Sept. 21, 2020. "Plumeria's dream threatens to overwhelm the Order."

“Edzard?! That worm!” Ranulf roughly pushed the skillet back in the stone oven, the cast iron scraping on the hot rocks. “Why didn’t you tell me last night? I would have torn him apart!” he growled, the fur running along his tail noticeably becoming thick and bristled.

Kiran was not expecting such an aggressive response from her kind-natured friend. “I think you answered your own question.” She closed her eyes and drank from her coffee cup, pondering if she made the right decision to inform Ranulf and Sakura of what has happened over the past few months. She had invited them over to Fljót House for breakfast to tell her tale after being encouraged by Claude to rely more on her closest friends during this time.

They all sat around her kitchen island, full bellies and a pot of tea with a plate of warm muffins. Ranulf had been surprisingly quiet all morning, only nibbling on the meal he had made for everyone, while Sakura continued to struggled to keep Sothis in line. The priestess kept apologizing profusely for her small nosy roommate showing up uninvited, after following her there and ambushing the group. Other than that, everything had been running somewhat smoothly, up until Kiran mentioned her brush with councilor Edzard at the Nýr Hetjudans.

“Wait, you know this Edzard?” Claude folded his arms. Kiran was thankful to have his support that morning, to keep her on track while she explained her situation to her friends.

“Yeah, him and his goons have been terrorizing the businesses in Sumbl Alley. He hasn’t shown his grimy face in a while, I guess I know why now.” Ranulf snorted in disgust, shaking his head. “Small council. Forget about creatures haunting your dreams. He’s going to be more trouble than that, if you ask me.”

“The beast is right.” Sothis sat up straight in her seat and turned her nose to the sky. “I only ever hear the moans of pleasure from Sakura at night. Surely there’s nothing wrong with her dreams.”

Sakura’s face turned a shade of deep red, “S-Sothis!” she cried hurling the muffin she was holding at the goddess. “At least it’s not as bad as your speeches you mumble at night! On an on, for hours about how you love your precious followers!”

“They do please me.” A small smug grin unfolded across her face.

Kiran glanced over to Claude who met her gaze with his own, flushing slightly. She hadn’t mention the strangely erotic dream she had that night to him and her eyes grew wide when she realized he might have also had a similar dream. “So everyone here has been having dreams about their… desires last night?” Kiran asked, looking at her roommate who had become quiet again. “Ranulf?”

He looked up when he heard Kiran say his name, his face turned red and his brows furrowed. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you about it!” Ranulf defensively turned his back to the group and placed his hand on his hips. “But for the sake of argument, let’s say you’re right and we all had… these dreams. What do we do about it, where do we even start?”

Sothis loudly swallowed parts of the muffin that Sakura had thrown at her. “I could just drop a moon on them?”

Claude chuckled at the suggestion. “Goddess forgive me, but I don’t think it will be that easy. We know little about what we are dealing with. We don’t even know if they are from Zenith, they could have followed a hero that had been summoned already. Which would look pretty bad for the Order if that was the case.” He grimaced drinking his tea.

Claude was right, if anyone thought the heroes coming to Askr could bring something harmful with them there was a good chance the Order as they knew it would cease to exist. The thought sent shivers up Kiran spin, but she knew she had to continue to work to stop these monsters. Even if the truth would put her and her friends in jeopardy. Kiran tried not to dwell on the thought, and she pick-up the explanation where the archer left off. “We need the Order and the rest of Askr to consider this a serious threat. So we will need to find more evidence that these things exist.” She turned her attention to Ranulf who was keeping himself busy, pushing around the tinder and ashes inside his oven. She could tell the whole of the situation was putting him on edge. “There’s only so much we can do in the capital. We will need you and Sothis to work the frontlines while you’re in the field. Talk to the other heroes, see if anyone has experienced anything in the castle or back in their own world, but be discreet about it. We don’t want Anna or Alfonse catching wind of our activities.”

“What about me?” Sakura asked, eager to know what she could do to help.

“We need you to focus on the physicians and healers you work with.” Kiran informed her, drinking from her cup again. Sakura had made a name for herself as one of the castle prominent healers, putting her in a great position to monitor complaints that would come through the infirmary. “They see people every day with all kinds of ailments. Keep an eye out for anyone coming in with sleep disorders. Find out why and if they remember anything from their dreams.”

“I can go through the medical records too!” Sakura’s face lit up and she reached for another muffin. “If this has been going on for as long as you say it has, there might be something on file as well!”

“That’s brilliant Sakura!” Kiran was impressed how well this was going. It was a relief to know she finally had people to rely on while she figures these álfr out. “Claude and I will continue in the library. Divide and conquer! Oh, we should also figure out the best way to bring Líf into our plan. He’s not going to like that I’ve shared what happened to him with others, but-“

“No. No Líf.” Ranulf sternly announced, cutting-off the summoner. He turned from the embers that flew out from the oven from one last push of the poker, shaking his head at her. “Anyone who wields a sword like his can’t be good. I don’t trust him.”

“I know you don’t. Nobody does, but he is just as good as asking Alfonse to help. Maybe even better in this situation!” Kiran argued. Líf had experience with these álfr, she couldn’t ignore that.

“He’s not Alfonse.” Ranulf said quietly, making it clear where his allegiances lay. “He hasn’t been Alfonse for a very long time.”

“Wait. Back-up.” Claude held his hand out, interrupting the conversation, a confused expression on his face. “This Líf character is… Alfonse?”

Kiran turned to Claude, breaking her standoff with Ranulf. “It’s hard to explain, but about this time last year the God of Death, Hel, came to claim the lives of the Zenith people for herself. The two generals she brought with her were a version of Alfonse and Veronica who had lost their fight with Hel in their own Zenith. Alfonse was promised that his world would be restored if they forfeit their lives and fought for her, conquered another Zenith and balance the cohort of the dead.” She finished her coffee and shrugged. “We were victorious in our fight with Hel. So our world has continued on, but Líf lost everything. His sister, his summoner. It’s taken time, but he has come to terms with that.”

“He hasn’t.” Ranulf didn’t budge, shaking his head vigorously again. “Any trace of rational sense he might have had died with those people he loss. Do you really think that he would welcome you with open arms, you who defeated him?”

“The Líf in our barracks isn’t even the one we fought! He’s different! You weren’t even there, so how would you even know?” Kiran snapped at him, trying to stay calm, but failing. “I can see the difference between the one we faced in the realm of the dead and the one who lives in our Askr now.”

“I may not have been there for the final battle, but I have been here longer than he has.” Ranulf pushed back, gripping the edge of the island. “I get that everyone deserves to prove themselves once summoned here and that it doesn’t matter what he has done in the past, but look what he has done here and now! He invaded your space without your knowledge and stole from you. Maybe you can turn a blind eye and make-up excuses, but I can’t!” he leaned over the kitchen island, not breaking his eye contact with Kiran, pressing his finger on the stone. “Mark my words, he’ll hurt you to get what he wants.”

Kiran felt her face flush in frustration. Ranulf was acting just like Alfonse did. Why couldn’t they see it from her perspective? “I won’t turn my back on him! It’s my job as the summoner to be there for all the heroes!” She tried to bite her tongue, but he didn’t understand how important this was. She needed Líf’s help regardless of what he had done. “Don’t make me choose between you and him because he would be more useful in this upcoming fight of ours!” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

The kitchen grew silent and Ranulf’s expression melted from one of rage to hurt, his ears folded back slightly and all life in his tail drained away. He snorted, turning away he grabbed a nearby kitchen towel tossing it over his shoulder and walking out the back kitchen door leading to the small deck overlooking the canal.

“Come on Sothis,” Sakura announced, standing up from her stool beside Kiran and picking up her bag and short cape. “we should get back to the barracks.”

Sothis looked up, wide eyed. “But-” She protested, quickly claming up when she met Sakura’s crossed gaze. “Very well.” She sighed, sliding down from her stool. “I will never understand these mortal hearts anyways.”

“If I see or hear anything, I will let you know right away. It will be alright!” Sakura hugged Kiran, before she followed the small goddess down the hallway.

Kiran quietly watched them leave, turning to the leftover eggs on her plate. She cursed under her breath as she pushed around the puffy yellow pieces. Ranulf and her rarely fought and it made her sick when they did. He had done so much for her, she didn’t even start enjoying her time in Askr until she summoned him here. Her eyes burned as they began to teared up.

Claude placed a comforting hand on her back, slowly rubbing it in a circular motion. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No.” Kiran sniffed, quickly catching any tears before they hit her cheeks. “I’ll go.” She put on a brave face, climbing off her stool and pausing a moment. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“I would like to think that I’m impartial since I’m new here, but yeah. You messed up.” Claude gave her an encouraging grin, and sighed. “Take all the time you two need. I’ll wait in the front room.”

Kiran nodded and walked across the small kitchen, pulling open the Dutch door and stepping out into the morning sun. She quietly moved around their small fire pit and stepping down on the floating dock that was attached. She sat down beside Ranulf, who was sitting on the edge, his legs submerged in the water, watching the gondolas move up and down the canal.

She pulled off her socks and rolled up her pants, proceeding to dip her own feet in the cool water. Kiran looked down at the clear water, watching small fish swimming near the sandy bottom, a favorite past-time for the two of them. Kiran stared at the jagged scarring on Ranulf’s foot. A constant reminder of his fight with the Rat King. “Does it still hurt?” she asked quietly.

“Soaking it helps.” He sighed, and continued to watch the boats float by.

“Ranulf I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean what I said in there. I was just frustrated. I could never choose anyone over you. I hope you know that.” Kiran pressed her lips together. It was true, she never would choose another hero if forced to pick-one, but she also wanted to be honest with him and figure out a compromise. “I’ll give Líf a wide berth, but I can’t promise I won’t reach out to him if we need to, nor will I turn him away if he comes to me.”

Ranulf slowly nodded, finally looking at the summoner. He wasn’t angry, but his mismatched coloured eyes were expressed his concern. “I know and I would never ask you to promise me something I knew you couldn’t keep. That wouldn’t be fair.” He began to tightly twist the towel he held in his lap and his eyes narrowed as he looked at it, the threads snapping and tearing apart. “I just have this nagging gut feeling whenever he’s around. It’s like all my instincts going off at once. Screaming at me to “ _get away_!” He sighed letting the towel loosen and unravel. “Just keep your guard up around him, that’s all I’ll ask. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”

“Maybe go into one of those famous laguz fits of rage?” Kiran gave him a lopsided smile, nudging his shoulder with her own. “That would be kind of cool.”

“For you, I would rip the realms apart.” Ranulf chuckled, placing his arm around her and pulling her into his shoulder, pressing his lips hard against the top of her head. “You should head out. Don’t keep Claude waiting.” He nudged her back, after releasing her. “I’ll do what I can while on the shield and be back in a few days, okay?”

“Thank-you. I know all of this has been hard for you.” Kiran borrowed his towel and dried her feet, pulling her socks back on. “Hopefully things will be back to normal soon.” She stood up, handing back the towel, as he nodded in agreement. Kiran smiled as she held on, lingering for a moment before she left.

* * *

Kiran huffed and dropped a second armful of books on the table Claude and her claimed in the library common area. There was hardly a soul in the grand space that afternoon and it was rare to even see someone while she was searching the stacks. In fact, all of the castle had been very quiet after the festivities of last night, however she was certain Canas was around since his office door was wide open. She returned her attention to the paperwork and books scattered on the table. Mostly books of recorded local histories. Tales of farmers experiencing bad harvests, blaming it on witches and stories of townsfolk fighting off small groups of bandits. Kiran sunk into her chair and cracked a book open. Claude had already started to work, looking for anything suspicious, after she dropped off the first round of dusty recordings.

Claude looked up after a moment. “What about Soren?” he lowered his book, placing it flat on the table. “Do you plan on bringing him in on this?”

“As much as I would like to, I just can’t help worrying that he’ll go to Alfonse.” Kiran had consider going to the mage, but she was still on the fence. “I know he is loyal to me, but part of his position is to liaison between the Order and the crown.”

“And you don’t want to make him choose one or the other.” Claude pointed out.

“No, I don’t.” She just talked Soren into continuing his job at the Order, to help support Alfonse and she didn’t want to give him mixed signals at this time. As cold as he came across, she knew he was sensitive at his core. Kiran decided she would go to Soren when the time was right. “It’s just better if we wait. What Soren doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?!” She chuckled, looking back at her book.

Claude didn’t laugh, picking his book back up and quietly murmured. “I think this will.”

Kiran tried to ignore his comment and pretended to continue with what she was reading. Claude was right, Soren would be hurt for being left in the dark once events came to light, but it couldn’t be helped, she already made her choice and the less people that knew the better. Kiran sighed and tried to concentrate on what was in front of her. Pausing and looking up when a dark figure cast a shadow over the table.

Líf stood before her, eyeing the open door of Canas’s office. He sighed, turning to look at the summoner, vaporous mist came flowing out around his face. “Kiran, a word? Please, I must be quick about it.”

She lowered the thick tome she held, giving him her full attention. He only ever came to her if it was important. “Just talk now. Don’t worry, Claude’s helping us with our… problem.” Kiran looked at Claude who was captivated by the swordsman that stood before them. “I told him everything.”

“Him?” Líf’s eyes narrowed into blood red slits as he stared at the archer suspiciously, tightening the grasp on his sword’s hilt.

“Hi, I’m Claude.” He rose casually from his seat and extended his hand. If Claude had felt fear at the sight of Líf, he did not show it in his expressions. “I have heard-“

“Kiran, she was here last night.” Líf cut-off Claude and ignored the archer, turning his attention back to the summoner. “The excitement of last night’s party must have drawn her here.”

“Did you see her?” Kiran’s eyes grew wide, she was right. All those dreams last night were connected.

“No, but I recognized the stench she left in the halls.” Líf growled, shifting his weight and loosening his grip on his sword. “There’s more, I had a chance to follow-up on some leads and I have found something I need you to look at.”

“E-excuse me Líf,” Canas strode up, the head scholar steeled himself and glared at the swordsman. “I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“It’s okay.” Kiran intervened, she needed the mage to leave quickly so Líf could continue what he had to say. “We don’t mind.”

“No, it is not okay.” Canas looked down his hooked nose at Kiran and shook his head in disagreement. “Under crown orders Líf was only given permission to access the library on condition he would keep his distance from the summoner.”

“I’ll go.” Líf quietly agreed, lowing his eyes. “I was just telling Kiran about the rare flowers the grow in the eastern fields of Askr.”

“Ah, botany! Wonderful discipline!” Canas cleared his throat, raising his arm and directing the direction he wanted Líf to go. “Perhaps you could write on the subject someday? I would be most interested! Maybe I could put in a good word for you to spend more time in the greenhouse, yes?” He encouraged, escorting the swordsman out of the library. Kiran bit her lip as she watched them leave with the information she so desired.

“So that’s Líf huh?” Claude leaned back, rubbing his chin. “Was that armour? Or… actual bones?”

“Um…” Kiran closed her book, she never really had to explain what Líf was, or was not, to others. People never asked, they just stayed away. “So his body is kind of not physically… alive. Not like you or me.”

“Askr is truly a remarkable place.” Claude chuckled to himself. “Just when I thought I had seen it all, this place shows me more.”

“It’s too bad Canas came up when he did. I wonder what Líf was going to tell us.” Kiran rested her cheek against her hand, supporting her head and pondered, staring at the library exit. “Maybe I should go after him?”

“I wonder…” Claude murmured and pushed his chair back from the table, the legs squealing on the tile floor. He quickly rose from his seat. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Kiran questioned, bewildered as she watched the archer disappear into the stacks. She pursed her lips, what could he possibly be doing. We need to figure out how to contact Líf, she thought, find out what he knows! She huffed and crossed her arms.

Claude reappeared striding fast from the stacks, this sash around his waist flapping behind him. He held up a small field guide with a wide grin across his face. Once he reached the table he opened the small book and cleared his throat. “ _Kiran, I’m concerned that anytime I try to reach out to you I will be intervened. Therefore, I have concluded the safest way to communicate with you is via this book.”_ Claude laughed, holding up the guide, ‘Wildflowers of Askr’s Eastern Fields’ and he pulled out a piece of parchment that had been tucked away inside. “Wow, I have to admit, for someone who looks the way he does, Líf’s calligraphy is quite elaborate!”

“That’s what you focus on?!” Kiran would have tried to snatch the note from him away, but decided against it. She hated trying to read Alfonse’s fancy hand written notes. “What else does it say?!” She demanded, hopping out of her chair stumbling over her feet to see.

“All right, all right.” Claude cleared his throat dramatically. “It goes on to read that there’s a notebook in the special collections, ‘Their Reality: Memoirs of a Clinician.’ Líf wants you to find this book and search for a passage that speaks of a former patient who references an event she calls “the collapse of dreams.”

“Special Collections? Crap.” Kiran scrunched up her nose. “Do you know how hard it is to look at a book in the special collections, let alone get it out?” She swiftly began walking towards the far end of the library with Claude close behind her.

Kiran stopped when she reached the end of the stacks across from the special collections. This section was housed behind a singular unmarked locked door so patrons who were unware would assume it was nothing more than a store room. But she knew what was behind it. She had been inside once before with Alfonse when he was showing her his rare collection of first editions as the archivist quietly sat in the corner monitoring their actions. “Nobody is allowed in that room unsupervised, except for the heads of the departments. Even then you have to make an appointment to go in.” Kiran shook her head, and scoffed. “We just don’t have that kind of time!”

“What do you propose we do?” Claude whispered over her shoulder.

Kiran pushed her back against the stack they hid behind, trying to concoct a plan. “Well it’s pretty quiet today, there’s not many people around. I’m sure I can slip in, find the notebook, get out. You can cover me, keep guard and distract anyone if they come sniffing around.”

“Well, I agree that I’m the one that should do the talking in case anyone shows up, but the door’s locked.” Claude raised his eyebrow, and tapped his finger on the spine of a nearby book. “How are you going to get in?”

Kiran’s eyes sparkled and she had a coy smirked. “I learned a few sweet tricks from a candyman!”

“I have no idea what you mean by that,” Claude quietly laughed. “but I like your gumption!”

“Okay, give me Líf’s note.” Kiran snatched the parchment Claude was holding. “Let’s go!” She dashed out and crouched down beside the door, pulling a hair pin out from her hair. She stuck it in the lock and began twisting the pin, trying to listen for any sort of click within the lock mechanism. Slowly she turned the knob holding her breath. She gasped, turning back to Claude who was trying to look busy sorting through the tomes on the shelf. Kiran gave him a smile. “Got it!” She loudly whispered.

“Okay, be quick!” He smiled and whispered back, “Oh, and good luck!” Kiran heard him say as she slipped into the dark collections room.

The room was dim and Kiran left the door open a crack, reaching for a phosphorus shaker orb and rolling it quietly until the material inside began to glow a bright orange. Most of the castle still used candles as their light source, but this was one room that all flammable materials had been banned and switched to more modern alchemist tricks.

The special collections room was cool and dry, making Kiran shiver. There where shelves with neatly organized tomes and books. Cases lined the wall storing an assortment of flat maps and various paintings. There was a singular table in the middle of the room, with a few chairs and the card catalog. This was the primary work space of those who visited the collection and only the archivist or department head was able to search the shelves. She held out the palm sized orb to light her way to the card catalog.

Kiran shook the orb again causing it to shine brighter, placing it on the top of the catalog box before looking to find the small drawer she needed. She leafed quickly through the calling cards, until she found the one she was looking for. “Their Reality: Memoirs of a Clinician.” she whispered to herself. “Shelf nine, row one.” Kiran turned around and smiled. Shelf nine was right behind her. “Must be my lucky day!” she giggled, quickly closing the small card drawer and pushed the chair over to the shelf to reach the top row.

 _“Professor Canas!”_ Claude’s voice cut through the silence of the room from outside the door.

Kiran froze, just as she climbed-up on the chair. Her heart began to beat harder in her chest when she heard Claude call out the mage’s name. Jumping down from the chair she quietly strode over to the door, peeking through the crack she left.

 _“You flatter me Claude, but my title here is just Scholar.”_ Canas stood near the stack, his back turned to the door Kiran hid behind.

 _“Sorry about that!”_ Claude laughed and rubbed the back of his head. _“Do you have a moment? I have some questions I was hoping to ask you about leading my peers.”_

 _“Of course! I was about to meet with the head archivist, but I am early!”_ Canas popped his heels cheerfully and placed a hand on Claude’s shoulder. _“I appreciate that you view me as someone who you can come to for advice. I was just reading a rather interesting book closely related to the very subject; you see…”_ his voice trailed off, out of Kiran’s ear shot, as Claude lead him away.

Kiran let out a breath of relief and ran back to shelf nine, hopping up on the chair. She quickly found the book she needed. A soft leather bound notebook, bound tightly with a long strap. She pulled it off the shelf, smiling at her new treasure.

She shifted her weight to step down as the door swung open, flooding the collections room with light. The archivist loudly screamed when she saw the summoner in the dark. Her eyes were wide and she threw her hand over her chest, inhaling deeply and letting out a second shrill scream, the tall feather in her hat shaking as she wailed. Panicked, Kiran miss-stepped off the chair, losing her balance and falling backwards. She dropped the book and reached out to grab hold of anything she could to break her fall. She roughly hit the worktable as she came down, knocking into a pot of black ink and spilling it over the piles of neatly placed parchments that had been laid out on the surface. Kiran stumbled to the ground, swearing loudly.

“What in the-” Canas came storming in to check on the archivist, followed closely behind by Claude. The mage took hold of the curtains, pulling them open and letting more light from the main library in. “Ereshkigal’s vortex...” he gasped, his monocle dropped from his face and swung loosely at his chest. He stared in stun silence, looking at the mess of parchments and ink on the table. “What have you done Kiran?”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know the inkwell was sitting there and…” Kiran stumbled over her words, struggling to get to her feet. She looked down at her hands covered in ink, inhaling rapidly. “And I knocked it over when I fell.”

The archivist was shaking, she quickly ran over to the table and began sopping up ink with rags they kept in the room for such accidents. Claude was quick to join her, bringing more rags and talc powder to stop the spill from spreading further. “Here, let me help you.” He reached down to pick up parchments that had fallen and she agreed by nodding, wiping her tears away.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Kiran quietly said, picking up a rag as the archivist huffed and snatched it from her hands.

“You never _mean_ for these things to happen, do you?” Canas shook his head wildly, as he rubbed his temples. “Yet here we are. Again.” He shrugged in frustration and sighed loudly, gesturing for Kiran to follow him. “Come along.”

Kiran looked back at the archivist and Claude. The archer didn’t look up as he helped the woman clean the mess she had created. She wanted to go over and help them, looking at her ink smudged hands. I would probably just make it worse. Kiran cursed under her breath, and quickly left to follow Canas in the library proper. “Are you going to write me up?” She asked, trying to keep up with his long strides. She held her breath, if she gets banned from the library there was no way she would ever get her hands on that notebook now.

“No. I’m tired of the paperwork you cause me.” Canas roughly cleaned his monocle, before placing it back on his face and picking up the pace, exiting the library and turning down the corridor towards the barracks. “I’m taking you to Soren. He can write you up.”

“S-soren?” She whispered as she stopped dead in her tracks. Soren would see right through any story she tried to use to cover-up what just happened and her true intentions. She groaned and ran to catch-up. “Canas, I am really, truly sorry. If there’s anything I can do to fix this-“

“You know we are guests here in Askr?” Canas abruptly stopped, his robes swirling as he took a step to the side of the hallway. “I take my role as a living bridge between the heroes that are summoned and the intellects of this land very seriously.” He looked down at her, his forehead creased in concern. “What we do and say as heroes is consistently being monitored.”

“Tell me about it… it’s a pain in the ass.” Kiran mumbled, wiping her dirty hands on her pants, she stopped, her eyes growing wide. “I mean! Sorry, that wasn’t very professional.”

Canas snorted. “In all honesty, I agree.” His stern features melted away and he chuckled. “I know what it’s like, you know. To be driven by curiosity.” He leaned in close, so he could whisper. “You know you can come to me with any concern. Anything at all! There is not a subject too outrageous!”

She giggled, “Thanks Canas. I’ll keep that in mind.” Kiran told him quietly.

“Hey, wait up!” Claude called out from the front of the library. He smiled and jogged down the corridor to meet them.

Claude huffed when he reached them, placing his hands on his knees. “I’m glad I caught you before you two got to the barracks. I think I need to start doing some more cardio training.” He laughed and took a breath, standing up straight again. “Anyways, the archivist wanted me to let you know that she’s taking full responsibility for what happen in the collections room. She said something about accidently leaving the inkwell out and forgetting to lock the door?” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. “Oh! And to tell you the files that were ruined were actually blank. She was just getting ready to do some cataloging before Kiran wandered in.”

“That still doesn’t make it okay for Kiran to take it upon herself to access restricted areas.” Canas folded his arms frowning as he looked down at the summoner. “What am I going to do with you? This doesn’t seem worthy enough to bother Soren with, but I can’t just let you go on your merry way without taking some action.”

“May I suggest something?” Claude asked, shifting his weight. “After all, I am her superior officer and this would be a good opportunity to practice what we had just been discussing.”

“Discussing what now?” Kiran murmured, her question falling on deaf ears.

“Ah, yes!” Canas’ face lit up and he gave Claude his full attention. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well I was thinking of old fashion hands on work.” Claude suggested, he smirked at Kiran as he spoke. “More specifically, Serge’s stable. It’s due for a good clean and I could use a hand.”

“Stable work?!” Kiran cried, she was no stranger to taking care of wyverns since Cherche taught her while they were traveling to Sem, but she never had to clean a stable while she was with them on the road. Minerva just slept outside where they did.

“They don’t clean themselves, you know.” Claude laughed, as the summoner furrowed her brows and pouted.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea Claude, and it would get you out of the library Kiran.” Canas smiled, having resolved this issue quickly. He placed a hand on her shoulder before he left. “I think the fresh air will be good for you. Please also think about what I said. I was sincere in my offer. I’m here if you ever need an ear.” He chuckled and turned to Claude. “I leave her in your capable hands!”

“Don’t I get a say?” Kiran cried again, she had enough crap to deal with, what was Claude thinking piling more on?!

“Afraid not!” The mage giggled and cusped his hand behind his back, walking back slowly to the library. “Oh! Kiran, try to find a lessen to learn in all this if you could?” He called out behind him.

Once Canas was out of sight, Kiran slumped down on the nearby window sill. “What do we do now?” she snorted. “We still need that notebook.”

Claude Leaned on the wall beside her, smiling down, he reached behind his back. “You mean this one?” He pulled the small notebook he had tucked into his sash.

Kiran’s eyes grew wide and she jumped to her feet. “Claude! How did you get this?”

“Well, I saw it laying there as I was helping the archivist clean up. I managed to slip it behind my back while she was busy getting more towels.” He bit his lip, trying to hide his crafty smile.

“You’re incredible!” She began laughing, unable to believe her eyes. “Let’s take a look!” Kiran took the notebook from his hand and began to unravel the strapping. It didn’t look as old as the other books in the special collections she noted, she wondered why it was there.

“Maybe not here.” Claude placed his hand on hers, stopping the summoner from continuing.

“Right. Smart.” She agreed, looking around. “Let’s go!” Kiran closed the notebook, keeping it close to her chest. “You didn’t really mean what you said about cleaning out the stable, did you?”

“Oh yeah.” Claude chuckled. “I meant every word of it! You own me! I expect to see you up and ready to clean at dawn tomorrow morning.” He laughed, as he followed her down the castle corridor. “Then remind me after to teach you how to actually pick a lock!”

Kiran stopped, her face went blank. “What are you talking about? I just did.” She scrunched up her nose, trying to make sense of Claude statement. “I know how to pick a lock!” She stomped her foot in a huff before running to catch-up with the laughing archer.


	5. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran and her friends live through their greatest fears and nightmares as the alfr take hold of their dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a dark prompt! I’m using the Triandra prompt to practice less happy scenes. So if your squeamish skip this chapter!
> 
> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Sept. 28, 2020. "The Order escapes Plumeria, only to meet Triandra."

Kiran sat-up in her bed. gasping and shivering. Her dim bedroom, with only the moonlight coming in from her windows, casting a few shadows on what little furniture she owned. Her nightgown sticking to beads of sweat on her clammy skin. Kiran felt dizzy and she took quick shallow breaths, reaching up to lightly touch her neck. _Why do I feel so sick?_ She wondered, sliding her legs from under her sheets, planting them on the soft rug at the side of her bed. She reached for her housecoat and slipped the soft material on. The silk floral patterns almost shimmered in the moonlight. _I need some air_. she pushed herself up and walked over to her open balcony, dragging aside the sheer curtains.

The nights were turning cooler, but not cold enough that she had to sleep with the door closed. The perfect time of year when you had an excuse to have more blankets on the bed. Kiran stepped out, the stone cold under her feet and she stared up at the stars, shivering again. _What was I dreaming about again?_ She wondered staring at the moon. The longer she stared the closer it appeared to become. So close she felt like it was going to swallow her up. _Why can’t I remember, the events of her dream escaped her, just out of reach locked away in her memories_. She huffed, frustrated with herself and turning away from the night’s sky, her nausea subsiding.

Looking down at the river she noticed a familiar figure sitting at the edge of the dock looking out over the oily black water of the canal. Her heart fluttered. _I’m I seeing things?_

“Ranulf?” she quietly whispered, puzzled to see him back from Midgard’s shield so soon. He said he would be away for a few days, she recalled. Ranulf slowly turned his head, looking over his shoulder at her as if he had known she would be there all along. He smiled, and she felt her heart beat faster. The dizziness from when she woke up returned, but the kind that made one feel euphoric. Giving her a sense of floating. She quickly moved towards her bedroom door, rushing down the stairs to greet him.

‘ _This is how it always begins_.’ A thought spoke to her, strange sensation. Like she was also a spectator to her own life. ‘ _This is how it always begins, and sometimes it’s good, but most times… most times it’s not._ ’ Kiran brushed off the empty echoes. Forgetting their warning as quickly as they manifested in her mind. She flew across the kitchen and reached for the back door, swinging it open.

Any sickness or fear she might have felt melted away. Kiran stepped out on to her wooden deck looking around. Nothing to cause alarm except the absent of her friend that she swore she had just seen. “Ranulf?” She called out in the night. He had left the dock where he was sitting and was nowhere around. Pulling her house coat tighter she tried to make out anything in the night’s shadows with only the moon above to light her way. The small fire pit, patio chairs, and his hammock sat unused and still. “You’re back early? I have good news!” She called out to nobody, her voice was dry and horse and she reached for her sore throat again. _Did I just dream he was here?_

“It’s all your fault, you know.” Ranulf whispered, startling her from behind. He lent against the plaster wall of the house near the kitchen door with his arms folded. The balcony above casting a dark shadow across his face, hiding his features. He sighed and his warm breath mixed with the cool air, creating a cloud of vapors that plumed around him. “You brought me to Askr and I have only suffered since you’ve summoned me here.”

“What do you mean?” Kiran chuckled, happy to have found him, taking a few steps towards him. _This is a prank; he’s messing with me_. “Your joking, you always seemed happy here!”

“Happy?” Ranulf scoffed, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Maimed, broken, confused; how could I be happy?”

Her smile faded slowly, she didn’t need to see his face to know he wasn’t joking. Kiran could sense the frustration and hate in his voice now. She stopped, goose pimples raising on her skin and growing quiet, at a loss for words. The only sound was the lapping of the water on the dock, the crickets in the garden and the beating of her heart. _Could he hear it?_

Ranulf lazily pushed himself from the shadows and strode over, towering over her, grasping her chin between his fingers and forcing her to face him. His gem coloured eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “You plucked me out of my world and made me your special little toy. Force me to fight for you, protect you, to lay down my life for you.” His words trailed off, choking back tears through clenched teeth.

“You don’t have to fight.” Kiran slid her hand around his wrist gently, he felt so much warmer than she. _I have to fix this, I can’t lose him, not now._ “I wouldn’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” She reassured him, his grip loosened, softly caressing her cheek with his finger and she closed her eyes, embracing his touch. “You know that. You know I lo—“

“Enough!” Ranulf’s face twisted in rage, wrapping his fingers around her throat. dragging her off her feet, slamming her back against the wall in one swift motion. “Don’t say… what is forbidden.” He snarled in her face, his grip tightening as he held her there, making it hard for Kiran to protest or gasp for air. “Laguz hearts need to be wild and free, not caged behind… beorc stone walls!”

“I’m sorry…” She wheezed, Kiran tightly shut her eyes, hot tears running down her face. her heart breaking again. “If you have to leave Askr, go. I won’t stop you. No matter how much it hurts.”

“I have to save myself from you.” He loomed over, pressing his forehead against hers, his hot breath dried the trail of tears, causing her skin to prickle. Ranulf inhaled deeply, letting out a long and slow sigh. “There’s only one way I can break free of you.” He whispered, she felt the heat of his other hand wrapped around her neck, thumbs bracing against themselves.

“Ranulf…” Kiran uttered, her eyes growing wide as he cut off her airway. _This isn’t happening!_ She thought, shaking, struggling to brake free as he easily pinned her to the wall. She clawed at his fingers, trying to pry them away to no avail, small gags escaping her throat.

He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to squeeze harder. Sometimes pausing to sob through quiet strings of apologies, as streams of tears flowed from his tightly closed eyes, gathering on his chin and falling to her chest. Every drop burned, it felt like her skin was on fire. Kiran felt herself growing weak and she reached over to lightly touch his face, breaking him out of his trance. Ranulf’s eyes flickered open gazing into hers as they had a brief quiet moment of shared pain.

Ranulf looked away, growling through gritted teeth. “Don’t look at me like that!” He hollered, roughly tossing her across the deck and onto the cold damp grass at the side of the small home.

Kiran rolled on to her back, gasping for air. Her lungs burned, working hard to return to life, trying vigorously to move oxygen through fits of coughing and sobs. She heard Ranulf’s boots scrape across the wood as he approached the lawn. A faint blueish green light began to glow around him, licking and raising off his body like wisps of weightless fluids as his appearance change.

“You need to run little mouse.” Ranulf purred, he held up his hand, long fingers curled into sharp claws and he drop to all fours, stretching his long limbs and shaking his fur out as he completed his transformation.

Kiran tried to call for help, only able to produce a sad wail that fell off as a slow whimper, her vocal cords too raw and damaged to alert anyone nearby. Ranulf’s jeweled eyes sparkled in the moonlight, focused on her movements, his lips curled back and he made a clear chattering sound of excitement. Her feet slid on the grass, as she struggled to get up. Quickly turning back to see his eyes dilate to black pools, hiding the joyous eyes she had come to love. Ranulf arched his back, crouching down, he was completely still for one second before he quickly pounced in her direction, startling Kiran and she began to run.

She pushed herself to sprint through the pain, the hurt, the events of the night, _I have to survive_ , she thought, gaining speed. She just needed to make it to the fence that lead to the street. Kiran grabbed at the stone birdbath, pulling it down behind her, she felt the water slosh around her ankles as the stone basin hit the soft grass with a thud. She hoped it would be enough to slow him down momentarily, just enough time for her to escape. Kiran reached out for the clasp on the gate as she felt something heavy, cutting into the middle of her back, pushing her forward into the bushes and away from her goal with a yelp.

Ranulf snarled as he dug his claws into the summoners back, ripping through her skin, blood soaking his fur. His jaws clasped around her neck, slowly crushing the life out of her, as she laid whimpering, helpless, until he felt a distinctive snap, finally putting each other out of their misery.

Ranulf cried out as he sprang from of his cot, tumbling to the floor. He lay there panting, drenched in sweat, staring up at the ceiling of his tent in Midgard’s shield. A gentle breeze rippling through the heavy canvas, calming his racing heart, the rapid beats beginning to slow their pace, “I’m so sorry Kiran.” He murmured laying in the cool dirt. He couldn’t remember why he felt the way he did, why his thoughts lingered on her again. The nightmare slowly fading from his memory and he was grateful to let it go.

There was a commotion outside his tent. His mind began clearing, coming into focus, back to the present. _Has the battle already started?_ The shuffling of boots and yelps muffled by the wind and sounds of clashing swords in the distance. Ranulf’s ear twitched and he rolled over pushing himself to his feet, striding over to the flap in his tent and pushing it aside. He squinted his eyes, the morning sun brighter than it should be _. Did I over sleep?_ He thought, following the noise he heard, turning to look down the narrow space between tents in their encampment.

“I’ll tell my daddy!” Velouria cried, cowering in the corner. Stuck between a miss-managed weapons rack and her pursuers, she yelped loudly, crouching down and pulling her red hood tightly over her silver head of hair. A tall woman taunted the young wolfskin girl with the end of her lance.

“Sub-humans need to learn their place!” the woman snarled, dragging her boot across the ground and kicking dirt at Velouria.

“Finally, someone who understands.” Ashnard, Daein’s fallen king, proudly said, clapping his hand on the back of his general who pierced the ground with the point of her lance, blocking off any escape route for Velouria. “It has been far too long Petrine.”

“Hey!” Ranulf hollered, when spotting the little wolfskin in distress. “Let her go!” He wasted no time in striding over, the king and his general parting for their unexpected visitor. Ranulf took Velouria’s hand lifting her to her feet with little effort and leading her away, as the young girl clung to his arm, whimpering, her tail between her legs.

Petrine wrapped her long arm around her lance, shifting her weight against it and placing her hand on her hip. “Oh look Sir, more pests to crush with your boots.” She smirked, looking at Ranulf.

Velouria reached for her chest, searching for her necklace as she walked away, her eyes grew wide and she gasped. “I dropped my stone!” she cried looking back and spotting the small yellow rock where she was hiding.

Ranulf bent down and wiped Velouria’s tears away. “Go find your father and stay with him.” He instructed. She hesitated for a second. Unlike him Velouria, and some others that carried beasts blood, needed their stones to transform into their stronger forms. “I’ll get your stone and then come find you.” He reassured her and she quietly nodded in agreement. Ranulf waited, watching her scamper off to safety. His ears twitched, the sounds of war raged on in the distance. Shouts and powerful explosions on a much larger scale then their battles in the past. _What is happening? Why wasn’t I informed…_

“Can you believe that they allow this one to live with the summoner Petrine?” Ashnard scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Disgusting.” Petrine eyed Ranulf head to toe.

“This isn’t Tellius you two.” He ignored their comments, this was Askr after all. He was safe here from them, he thought to himself looking up at the blue sky, strange flashes of light overhead. _I need to make this fast, so I can check that out._ “Your piss poor attitude isn’t going to fly here.” He spotted the stone sparkling in the sunlight and pushed past them, scooping it up. “Anymore nonsense and I will have you removed.” He turned his back to leave.

“The beast is right.” Ashnard said gloomy, a look of regret on his face. “This isn’t Tellius.” He sighed placing his heavy gauntlet clad hand on Ranulf’s shoulder, seizing him and throwing him against the weapons rack. “It’s up to us to rid Askr of all the sub-humans!” he laughed, the sound of metal and wood clashing on one another, colliding with Ranulf’s body as he cursed them.

Ashnard took a hold of Ranulfs collar, ripping his vest as he pulled the growling laguz to his feet. He stopped Ranulf from transforming by smashing his face with another armoured hand. Ashnard made contact with Ranulf’s jaw with a loud crack, splitting open his cheek and letting him drop to the ground.

“What’s going on here?!” Soren appeared between the tents. “Ranulf?” He spotted the laguz, blood flowing from a gash on his face.

“Soren!” Ranulf called out, he barely could hear the mage, his ears ringing from the blow, “Thank the goddess.” He mumbled, he could feel the slick, hot liquid running down his face, the smell of blood flooding his senses, while he struggled to get his footing.

“Quiet!” Ashnard bellowed, the heel of his boot coming down on Ranulf’s back, forcing the laguz down again. Laughing, Ashnard slowly pulled his sword from his belt, reaching down and taking hold of Ranulf’s tail, as he yowled in pain. “Best to dock a beast once broken in.”

Soren was quick to reach for his tome, leafing through the pages to his strongest incantation. Taking a step forward, he raised his hand towards the fallen king, hesitating when he heard whispering in his ear.

“Don’t forget what they did to you. How much you suffered as a child wandering Gallia.” Petrine leaned over, her hand snaking around his shoulder. “You and I are alike. Branded they call us. I know what you went through. What they did. The names they called you.”

“Soren!” Ranulf sobbed, struggling under the king’s boot. “Help me!” he wailed, his eyes growing wide as Ashnard pulled the long blue tail taught, bracing his stance and slicing in one motion near the base. Ranulf howled, the sounds of the near battle drowning out his calls while he clawed helplessly, his legs scrambling in the blood soaked dirt.

“The pain, hunger and loneliness.” Petrine continued, stirring old emotions and prodding at festering wounds that were in buried deep in Soren’s mind. “But you’re not that small helpless child anymore. You are one of us.” She placed her arm around his shoulder walking him towards the bloody scene. “Show them how powerful you are now, put them in their place!”

Ashnard stepped off of Ranulf, tossing his prize across his shoulder, smirking as he watched Soren approached the laguz who had passed out from the physical trauma, crimson foam bubbled at his mouth as he laid in the dirt. Soren raised his tome again, reciting a verse meant for the fallen king and unleashed his powerful spell, putting down the broken beast for once and all.

Soren jumped in his seat with a snort, he felt hot all over, he roughly pulled at the collar of his undershirt, loosening its restriction to his sore neck. Looking over his desk, the candle that was sitting across from him was distinctively shorter then he remembered. _I must have fallen asleep at my desk again,_ he thought, glancing at the file in front of him. General Petrine, the Order’s newest recruit. A swell of anger bubbled to the front of Soren’s mind. “To the far mountains of Northern Askr for you witch.” He growled writing the order to have her shipped away to the outskirts and tossing the file to the far end of his desk.

He shivered trying to recall his dream, reaching for the small pot of tea and tilting it towards his cup, producing nothing but a small dribble of brown liquid and damp shreds of leaves sticking to the ceramic of the spout. “Blast.” He grumbled, blowing out the candle and rising from his chair with the tea pot in hand, walking towards his office door. _I could use a break,_ he thought, deciding to visit the kitchen for a late night refill.

Soren enter the cool dim corridor, turning back to lock his door with a large iron key, the thick metal lock loudly clicked and echoing down the hall as it shifted into place. He slipped the keys into his robe, tucking his long dark hair behind his ear. The large fall moon hung low in the sky, lighting his way, the only sound was the soft strides of his leather boots and the quiet sighs coming from an alcove around the corner.

He rolled his eyes at the two figures in the shadows, quiet laughter accompanied with the low sounds of pleasure. “I don’t care who you are or what you do, just don’t do it here.” He scoffed, slowing his pace as he approached the two lovers. “Find a room or something.” Soren mumbled as he passed by.

“Dear Soren, always the stick-in-the-mud. I do not know how you put-up with it for so long.”

Soren stopped at the sound of a voice that he had become all too familiar with.

“I had no choice, he wouldn’t stop following me around. He’s your problem now.” The second figure laughed, Soren’s stomach flipped and drop upon hearing it.

“Speechless for once. How cute.” Laslow stepped out of the shadows. “Come-on, don’t be mad, join us!” he outstretched his hand, gesturing for the mage to take it with a lopsided smirk.

“No.” Soren swallowed hard, choking back tears as he tried to avoid eye contact, turning away and walking quickly back towards his office.

“Let him go. He’s not like us anyways.” Ike lazily pulled at Laslow’s sleeve, urging him to return to him in the alcove. “Branded. Half beast, half human.”

Soren reached his office door, shaking and fumbling with his keys as he tried to hastily unlock it. _How could he?_ _I thought…_ Soren froze, he could hear Laslow followed by Ike move in his direction, the scuff of their boots on stone, the soft mummers of leather rubbing against itself.

“More like abomination.” Laslow reached over Soren’s shoulder and placed his hand on the door, causing him to drop his keys and the tea pot he held between his body and arm, the ceramic piece smashing on the floor with one loud crack, shards tinkling across the floor.

“Don’t touch me!” Soren screamed, keeping his back to them, tears streaming down his face as he tried to hide.

“Dare I say, we’ve made him cry!” Laslow pouted, running his finger down his cheek sarcastically.

“He always was a sensitive little freak.” Ike wrapped his arm around Soren from behind, putting him in a tight head-lock and dragging him away from the door. “Maybe we should put him down. Save him from his miserable existence.”

Soren panicked, cries turning to muffled grunts as he slipped on the shards of ceramic and wet tea leaves that were scattered at his feet. He felt his face grow hot and red as Ike’s grip tightened and he saw Laslow pull his dagger out from his belt, the cold steel glinted in the moonlight through the barracks windows.

Laslow reached over, placing his hand on Soren’s head, roughly rubbing it side to side before gripping his hair tight and directing his gazing at him. He sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I do grow ever so tired of his whinging anyways.” Laslow smirked, sliding and twisting the blade easily, breaking into Soren’s caged heart one last time.

Laslow sat-up, sweating. His sheets drenched beneath him. He leaped out of his cot, tripping over his own feet running for the basin on the small dresser, splashing the warm water over his face, panting. He lent over the bowl, his hands dangling on the sides, sobbing, water and tears drip-dropping softly back in. The heat of the sun made the air in the tent stifling. _What was that dream?_ He tried to catch his breath, _Why’s it so hot in here?_

He threw on his coat and marched out into the encampment. The sun blazed abnormally large in the sky, making the world feel oddly hot and humid, Laslow wiped the sweat from his brow and shifted uncomfortably in his heavy outerwear. There were shouts in the distance, he lifted his hand shading his eyes from the light, _a battle_?

“If it’s a fight Hoshido wants it’s a fight they will get!” Xander marched by adjusting his gauntlets.

“My lord?” Laslow squinted, as he watched the Nohrian prince mount his steed.

“There you are Laslow!” Xander circled the horse as more riders joined him. “Let us embark, we will drench the battle field with Hoshidan blood!”

“My lord, forgive me.” Laslow picked up his belt, swiftly wrapping it around his waist and securing his claymore. “This is Askr, we are at peace with Hoshido. Why are we going to war with our allies?”

“Now is not the time for questions.” Xander called out, raising his sword above his head. “I need you to have my back!” He kicked his heels, pulling at the reins, driving his horse down the centre of the encampment midway and into the field.

Springing into action, chasing after the overzealous prince. Laslow reached the edge of the field, the hot sun bearing down overhead. He gasped at the sight. Heroes from all worlds that had been summoned to Askr were in the fray. Not just the nations of Nohr and Hoshido. He spotted Xander riding into the thick of it, clashing swords with another lord.

Laslow rushed down to the fight, cutting down unknown fighters from many nations quickly. He wielded his claymore in one hand and his dagger in the other, kicking down bodies he sliced through as he pushed forward. Sweat and blood mixing with each other and sticking to every surface under the humidity. _This doesn’t feel right_ , he thought, working his blade another. He was no stranger to fighting those who were alike the heroes he shared in this Askr. It was a common occurrence in the Aether Castle and Tempest Vortex, but this felt… different to him.

The Hoshidan army crept closer as he reached Xander’s side, panting, sweating head to toe.

“Laslow!” Xander called out, unbothered by the heat. “Keep your head man!” He pointed his sword forward at a particular priestess. “Take care of her!” he ordered, kicking his horse and riding forward.

Laslow used his sleeve to wipe his forehead, looking in the direction he was told. Sakura, the youngest Hoshidan princess was casting powerful healing spells, adding her brothers as they fought. She had not noticed Laslow to her far side, leaving herself open to any attack.

His eyes widened when he noticed something odd about her, the clip she wore in her hair. These were the heroes from his Askr. “Naga no…” Laslow gasped, these were his friends that were so consumed in battle with each other. _What is happening? Where is Aflonse?_ He looked down at his blood soaked gloves, sweat stinging his eyes. _Where is Soren and Kiran?_

“I can’t…” He croaked, just as his shoulder thumped back, shearing pain ripping through his arm as he dropped to his knees. A single arrow lodged in his body. Looking towards the directions it came from Laslow saw the princess who had laid down her staff and now wielded a long bow almost as tall as she was. Sakura raised it slowly, pulling back the string and taking aim.

“Sakura, we don’t have to do this!” Laslow cried out, his sword became too heavy to lift even if he wanted to. His legs sank more in the hot sticky mud. “Sakura!”

“Nohrian scum.” Narrowing her eyes, Sakura released her arrow, hitting her target. Laslow’s head knocked back, followed slowly by his body as it slumped over quietly sinking into the red mud.

Sakura woke-up with a squeak, covering her mouth so not to wake Sothis in her bunk across the small barracks bedroom from her. The moon sat bright and full, light pouring in from the window. She pulled off her soft quilt, quietly tip-toeing over to pour a glass of water, she felt so hot.

She leaned against the wall, drinking eagerly from the cup, her throat was so dry. I _can’t remember a thing about that dream,_ she thought, _just that I was hot_. Sakura sniffed, finishing her drink and hiccupping. She dampened a cloth to wash her itchy face _. I was crying in my sleep? That’s a new one even for me_ , she rubbed her face with the wet towel.

“Tears again.” Sothis yawned from her bunk, propped up on her elbow. “Honestly Sakura must you cry so much?”

“Why must you always be so cruel?” Sakura shot back. She was not in the mood for her roommate’s snooty remarks, folding the towel and draping it on the dresser bar. “Or is it just in your nature.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sothis huffed, sitting up in her bed, long green hair fluffing up around her small frame, pouting.

“N-nothing.” Sakura swiftly walked back to her bed, following the trail of moonlight across the room, her nightgown loosely flowed between her feet. “Go back to sleep.” She told her small roommate as she crawled back into bed, wrapping herself in her quilt and positioning herself so she faced the wall.

“No.” She told Sakura, “Come now, spit it out.” The mythic creature demanded.

Sakura sighed, rolling on to her back, she knew the Sothis wasn’t going to let this go quietly, the little goddess never did. “It’s just others in your position tend to… change over time.” Sakura stared at the ceiling, remembering past events in Hoshido. Corrin, her brother, Anankos, his father, both dragons that fell into darkness. It was not just her world too, there were other heroes that had had their gods and goddesses change for the worst. Madness turn their loving hands into twisting cruel claws of destruction. “They can become vicious.”

“You believe me vicious now?” Sothis threw her short legs over the side of her bed, crossing her arms.

“Forget I said anything.” Sakura quietly mumbled.

“How can I? Now that the truth is in the light.” Sothis hopped down from her bed and lightly skipped over to Sakura’s side of the room. Her eyes large and wide, mouth twisted in anger when she stepped into the moonlight. “I won’t let you slither in the darkness. I see you. I know you Angarthan.”

Sakura pulled her quilt up to her chin, shifting herself closer to the wall. “W-what are you t-talking about?” She stuttered, the shadows around their room seemed to loom over her.

“I will protect what belongs to me!” Her small feet began to lift from the floorboards and Sothis elegantly raised her arms above her head. “I will save my children from you!”

“You’ve lost your mind!” Sakura cried, her faith shaken, her friendship broken, her back pressed against the wall. “I knew it! All the gods turn on us eventually!”

“Prepare yourself!” Sothis smirked, a ball of energy of bright light spinning formed between her hands, growing larger as she held it there.

Sakura cried helplessly as she watched Sothis clutched the air with her fingers and pull her arms apart, ripping through space, expanding the globe of fire she had created, the bright white light enveloping the dim room as the world cracked, followed by a soft one-note tone that trailed off into silence.

The quiet was slowly replaced with the soft sounds of gentle winds traveling through long blades of grass and nearby mountain cliffs. The intense light fading to light blues and whites, speckled with the silhouettes of birds flying overhead.

 _I cannot move_. Sothis thought, staring at the sky. _Why can I not move? Have I fallen into my deep slumber? No. I have only just woken up._

A dark figure in her peripheral leaned over her. The sound of tearing cloth and a blade cutting through cord. He worked without saying a word, his pitch black armour looked dull in the sun’s light. His helm crowned with horns that pierced the sky and a face with frozen ghoulish grin. He worked his way closer to her centre vision, traveling up her body.

 _No! Stay away! Cease this at once!_ Her mind cried out, unable to rouse her body to function. Sothis felt the blade against her skin and slice into her flesh, followed by loud cracks of bones and ripping of unseen parts. _Not again…_ her mind sinking in sorrow, unable to stop the harvest.

A second figure stepped forward, standing over her, his body blocking the sun. He hooked his sash around his waist with his thumb and lazily pushed his hair back as he supervised the other.

 _Boy!_ Sothis cried, her voice an echo in her mind. _You, boy, stop him! He cannot be allowed to continue!_

“Come on.” Claude waved his hand eagerly to speed up the work, as the knight wrapped the material that was removed in bloody cloth, packing them with care into a large bag. “Get this back to Shambhala, I’ll be right behind you. I just have to pick-up someone on the way.”

“As you wish.” The death knight slowly stood, wiping his blade on his pants and tossing the bag over his shoulder, walking out of her sight.

 _Why can’t I use my power?_ Sothis groaned into the abyss. _Why can’t I turn the hands of time?_

“I’m sure glad I was able to recover most of Thales’s research and restore that ruined stronghold before I was summoned here. I have much to learn from the Agarthans and Askr alike. More knowledge, more power.” Claude watched his subordinate walk away, bodies littered the quiet battle field. He turned to follow him, abruptly stopping, snapping his fingers and shaking his head. “Oops, how silly of me! I almost forgot the most important piece!”

He crouched down beside Sothis, no longer blocking the sun that blazed overhead. Claude’s face was spotted with dried blood and he reached down, wet sounds created by his movements where deafening as her vision blurred.

“Got it!” His face lit up and he roughly pulled his hand out, flesh snapping away as he did. “The crest stone of flames.” He smiled devilishly at his bloody prize.

 _Riegan…_ Sothis sensed the blood that ran through his veins. A moist trickle of water escaped her unmoving eye, soaking the sides of her hair.

Astonished, Claude noticed and leaned over curiously, touching the tear with the finger of his glove and inspecting the damp tip. He chuckled, looking at the crest stone and back to Sothis. “Oh, don’t worry goddess. I’m not crazy enough to use it on myself!” He reassured her, his grin was menacing. “She doesn’t know it yet, but this one is for Kiran. _Shh_ It’s a surprise.” He winked, pushing himself to his feet, casually tossing the bloody stone in the air and catching it. “Once we both have crests, nothing will be able to stand in our way. I mean, why should I stop at Fódlan when I can unify the worlds?” He laughed and slowly walked out of sight, the blackness of her peripheral closing-in, leaving her in the dark with only the sound of Claude’s laughter fading away and the howling winds over the quiet battle fields of Askr.

Claude’s eyes flickered open and he sat-up in bed, flushed, his skin prickled as he looked over to Subaki, his barracks roommate, softly snoring in the bed across from him. _It was just a dream,_ he cradled his head in the palm of his hand. Soft light coming in the window, a mix of moonlight and the oncoming dawn. He yawned, _too early to get up, too late to go back to sleep_. The sound of fluttering insect wings, like dry leaves rustling in the wind caught his attention. He looked up to see a shadowy figure move across the far wall and disappear into the dark cracks of the door.

Stunned, Claude blinked a few times, pushing his sheets down around his ankles and scrambling out of bed. Striding across the wooden floor of the small bedroom, he reached for the handle of the door. A wave of cool air rushed over his body, his thin tunic providing no warmth and he shivered stepping out on to the open-air corridor of the barrack’s dorm. A breeze whistling through large windowless arches overlooking the well-manicured garden below.

He turned towards the sounds of soft whispers in the corner. A woman in a tattered nightgown, clinging on to the stone wall draped in shadows. “No, no, no, no. You have to make it stop.” Kiran softly murmured to herself, pushing her forehead against the stone, crying. “It’s just a dream, wake-up, wake-up!” Her hand tightly clutched the wall.

“Kiran?” Claude quickly walked over, pulling her away from the wall to face him.

She was deathly pale, covered in a mix of dried mud and blood. Abrasions and injuries decorated her body. Kiran’s eyes grew wide and she gripped his arms as she looked up at him. “I’m so sorry! I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t save them.”

“How did you get here? I walked you home.” He gasped, tilting her head to the side, revealing dark violet and crimson bruises. “Goddess, Kiran, your neck! What happened?”

“I wasn’t me. I was them!” She cried, pushing her face against his chest, shaking. “I couldn’t control what was happening. What did I do? My friends…” She sobbed.

“You’re not making any sense, slow down. You’re safe now.” He held her closer, her tears soaking through his tunic. “Start from the beginning.”

She became quiet, her breathing quickened, struggling out of his arms. “No! Don’t touch me! This isn’t real!” Kiran pushed him away roughly, her faced twisted in pain and fear, gritting her teeth. “You’re not real! I have to wake-up!” She turned, looking towards the garden.

“Kiran, I’m real! This isn’t a dream!” Claude reached for her arm, his fingertips just brushing her skin as she sprinted for an arched opening overlooking the garden. She briefly hesitated as Claude shouted behind her to stop. She stood on the stone edge, before fully leaning over and allowing the weight of her body to carry her the rest of the way down.

Kiran sat-up in her bed. gasping and shivering. Her dim bedroom, with only the moonlight coming in from her windows, casting a few shadows on what little furniture she owned. Her nightgown sticking to beads of sweat on her clammy skin. Kiran felt dizzy and she took quick shallow breaths, reaching up to lightly touch her neck. _I’m going to be sick!_ She thought covering her mouth and jumping out of bed, running for her open balcony, pushing aside the sheer curtains roughly.

She shook as she vomited over the side into the bushes below, breaking out in a cold sweat. Her body ached as she recalled the events of her dream and she loudly sobbed into the quiet night. Kiran wiped her lips with the back of her hand as she looked down at the river. She noticed a familiar figure sitting at the edge of the dock looking out over the oily black water of the canal. She felt her breathing slow, returning to a normal pace.

Ranulf slowly turned his head, looking over his shoulder at her as if he had known she would be there all along. He smiled. ‘ _This is how it always starts_.’ A thought spoke to her and Kiran brushed it away, allowing her fears and memories to melt away. She quickly moved towards her bedroom door, rushing down the stairs to greet him.

* * *

Triandra sat on the edge of the stone arch that overlooked the garden of barrack’s dorm, admiring her handy-work. She closed her eyes taking in a deep breath, the buzz fluttering of wings behind her. “Can you hear them Plumeria?” she asked, swinging her crossed leg lightly. “Their screams? Like sweet lullabies that Lady Freyja use to sing us.”

“You let him see you Triandra.” Plumeria softly approached, looking down at the garden over Triandra’s shoulder. “Looks like I’m not the only one getting sloppy.” She smugly grinned.

“It was the best way to lure them together.” Triandra smiled, relishing in the chaos below. Claude’s wails echoed off the stone walls as he cradled Kiran’s broken body in his arms. The Askran royal guard moving in to arrest him. “I needed him to find the summoner outside his door.”

“Wait. You stitched their dreams together?” Plumeria’s eyes widen in shock, her wings fluttered and she hopped back as Triandra rose from where she sat. “You know creating shared dreams is dangerous and hard to undo. Lady Freyja will not be impressed if something goes wrong. Why take the risk?”

“High risk. High reward.” Triandra shrugged, hovering just above the stone floor, her wings buzzing. She slipped into the shadows of the realms, traveling through the closed door and landing softly in the dormitory bedroom taking care not to wake Claude and his roommate. “Once they share their experience with each other. The summoner will realize she can never be too sure what’s a dream and what is not. She will be less likely to take chances and more willing to submit to what’s happening around her. Triandra explained, creeping over to where Claude slept, his face twisted in pain from the events he was suffering. “Never knowing for sure if her actions will have dire consequences for her or others.” The álfr smirked, sitting gently on the edge of Claude’s bed. “By the time we’re ready, I will have broken their reality; their minds belong to me now.”


	6. Breidablik’s Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran's punishment to clean Claude's wyvern stable is put on hold by an unexpected turn of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Oct. 5, 2020. " Freyja's victory is all but assured as the Order escapes Triandra's clutches."

The rays of sun cracked over the horizon, slicing through the clouds and setting fire to the cold stone cliffs that surrounded Askr’s Roost. The sky was smeared red, a warning that a storm was on its way. Chirps and quiet snorts from the waking wyverns that slept in the stables around her. Kiran pulled a second cube of dehydrated meat out from the pouch she had brought, offering the morsel to the hungry wyvern. Minerva trilled happily as she lazily scooped up the cube with her long tongue, brushing it across Kiran’s palm, the sensation tickled and she couldn’t help but giggle while she reminisced about her adventures in Sem.

Minerva nudged Kiran’s side, looking for more tidbits, “No more. Cherche will kill me if I spoil you before breakfast. Besides I need the rest to make a good impression with Serge.” Kiran told the wyvern, rubbing Minerva’s jaw, enjoying the quiet moment of peace before she had to face reality again.

She had woken up early that morning, nightmares again, and couldn’t go back to sleep. Giving up, she poured over the journal that her a Claude took from the Special Collections in the library. They had gone through it the night before. Endless entries about treating patients that had been committed for madness and inflictions of the mind. The clinician wrote about a woman whose child had disappeared. When the villagers confronted her she swore her daughter had been captured by monsters in her dreams, sent off to stop the ‘collapse.’ They thought the woman insane and figured she sold or murdered the girl on her own, but without a body the woman could not be tried for her crimes, so they sent her away for treatments. The journal that sat now in her bag made Kiran shudder, no wonder she had nightmares at night.

“There you are!” Claude cried out. She had arrived early but perhaps she had spent more time with Minerva than it felt like. He quickly rushed over once he spotted Kiran in the stables, pulling her scarf down and briefly inspecting her throat. Claude sighed in relief, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

“Sorry, I wanted to say “hi” to a friend first.” Kiran explained, confused by what he was doing. “Claude this is Minerva. Captain Cherche’s partner.” She introduced the coal coloured wyvern she had been feeding.

“Oh!” Claude stared at the winged beast in surprise as Minerva stared right back at him, sizing him up. The wyvern slowly inched closer to his face, her nostrils flaring as she took in his scent. With one large huff the wyvern exhaled hard, blowing out Claude’s hair, and causing him to scrunch up his face. She lent down, her jaw opening and the long pink tongue crept out, sliding up Claude’s cheek, leaving a thick trail of thick saliva. “Easy now,” Claude laughed, reaching up to rub the wyvern’s jowls before the beast disappeared back into her stable. “it’s very nice to meet you too Minerva!”

Kiran grinned at his disheveled hair and wet cheek. “I use to care for her when I worked for Cherche.” She told him, walked towards Serge’s stable so she could get started on cleaning it out. Her punishment for ‘wandering’ into the restricted Special Collections room.

“Well, I guess I don’t have to teach you any of the basics!” Claude mused, pulling out a cloth and wiping his face. His wyvern partner had already been roused from slumber and outside her stable.

Serge was the first of her kind in Askr. Her long antlers, common to wyverns in Fódlan, and bone white skin made her stand out among the other wyverns in the roost. Kiran slowly approached her offering the small pouch of meaty snacks to try and establish trust between the two. Claude encouraged the Serge with a nod and wave of his hand, ensuring his partner that Kiran was okay. Serge cautiously, but happily took the treats and allowed the summoner to walk past her.

“Where did you want to get started?” Kiran placed her hands on her hips and stared into the dark space, hay bedding was scatter across the wooden floor and equipment hung disheveled on the walls. “It might be easier if we work from the top to the bottom?”

“Actually, there’s a change of plans.” Claude announced. He walked over to some of the equipment that was hanging on the wall, picking up a strange looking harness belt with leather strapping and hooks. “I found new orders to pick-up some western scout’s reports when I returned to the barracks last night. Are you up for a quick ride?”

“Leave the capital?” Kiran’s eyes widened, “Yeah, of course!” she said excitedly.

“Here, step in.” Claude crouched down with the leather harness, holding the loops open at her feet.

“What’s this?” She questioned, following his instructions, Kiran placed her hand on his shoulder to steady herself, stepping in the loops.

“Passenger’s belt.” Claude pulled the harness up and around her waist, pulling the belt tight. “You know. Just in case.”

“Oh.” Kiran pouted, she had never worn such a thing with Cherche. “Seems excessive, I haven’t seen any other heroes use this.”

“Can’t let anything happen to our great summoner!” Claude laughed, adjusting the straps that ran up her back and over her shoulders, attaching them to the front belt. He trailed off, becoming distant as he worked. “Just humour me. Better safe than sorry.” He told her quietly.

Kiran could tell there was something bothering him this morning. Maybe it was the same thing that was now bothering her. “Why did you check my neck earlier?”

Claude paused for a moment, looking at Kiran from the corner of his eyes. He slowly finished securing the harness with a click, before he finally met her concerned eyes. “I had the strangest dream last night. I saw the álfr you spoke of, at least I think I saw it.” He sighed, running his hand threw his hair as he shook his head in disbelief. “When I chased it out of my room… you were there. Hurt and confused. Rambling on about how it was all just a dream. I tried to calm you down. Reassure you that you were safe with me.” Claude’s eyes began to tear up, stumbling over his words. He reached down to take her hand into his own. “It felt so real Kiran. I really thought it was, but you pushed me away and you…”

“Jumped.” Kiran finished his sentence. She was dumbfounded by what she was hearing. This wasn’t some strange dream he had, this was more.

Claude quickly nodded in agreement. “Yes! You said you had to ‘wake-up’ and you… jumped. I was too late to stop you and I watched you fall. Held your body in my arms. I don’t remember much after that. Just the feeling of dread that I lost you and there was nothing I could do to fix it.” He looked at the sky and around the stables, taking a moment to rein in his emotions, before his attention returned to her. “Did you dream of something similar?”

“Not similar. The exact same thing.” Kiran closed her eyes and shook her head in confusion, this doesn’t make sense, she thought. “I remember dreaming of being in the barracks with you. I was so scared, I just wanted to make the dream stop, I had to make myself wake-up. I thought jumping was the only way. Like when you wake-up suddenly with the feeling of falling. I thought I could force myself awake.” Kiran sighed, letting her arms drop to her side. “I don’t recall the rest, like what happened is just out of reach of my memory. I just know it wasn’t pleasant.” She swallowed hard, her words trailed off as she lightly touched her throat.

“How is this even possible?” Claude asked, he reached for her arm and moved in close to whisper, other wyvern knights trickling into the roost. “Us having the same dream, I mean.”

“I don’t know.” Kiran pressed her lips together and shrugged, not sure what to make of this incident. “I stopped trying to understand a lot of things since coming to Askr.” She chuckled, and remembered the journal that was in her satchel. “Hey! Maybe we should track down the clinician who owned the journal? He might be able to answer some questions.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Claude agreed, turning to Serge. “But first, let’s get this job done!” He took a hold of the saddle on the beast, anchoring his foot in the foot hold and hoisting himself up and over the wyvern’s back.

Kiran watched in awe as Claude effortlessly mounted his wyvern partner. She nervously took a step forward, unsure how she was going to get up as well. “How should I…”

“Here, take my hand.” Claude reached down, offering his arm for support and Kiran took hold, scrambling up behind him causing Serge to let out low throaty growl. Claude laughed, clipping the hooks of Kiran’s harness on to the saddle, pulling the straps in tight so her legs rested around his body. “Ready?” He yelled back, pulling at the reins and moving Serge towards the edge of the cliff. “Hold on tight!”

Kiran nodded trying to keep calm, wrapping her arms around Claude’s chest. She could feel the rise and fall of every breath he took through his riding gear. She had never quite become use to taking off on the back of a wyvern. She gasped as Serge plunged off the cliff side causing her stomach to drop and her rear to lift slightly from the saddle. She held on to Claude tighter, closing her eyes and letting the feeling of raising wash over her as they caught an updraft, wind filling the wyvern’s wings. She could feel Claude chuckled in amusement as she pressed herself against his back and he lightly touched her hand in reassurance.

It wasn’t long before Kiran began relaxing. The wonderful feeling of flying replacing her fears of falling and she slowly opened her eyes. They traveled west of the castle, soaring over the royal forest, along the cliff and towards the King tomb. The rising sun at their back, reflecting a blaze of red and orange of the mountain side and the changing colour of the trees below. Kiran recognized the rivers that flowed beneath them and the trails that cut through the woods, marking what was up ahead. She spotted the elaborate stone carvings of the tomb her and Líf had gone to when Alfonse and the majority of the castle came down with a sickness and the clear and mirrored surface of the pond she and Soren had fought Naga at during the egg hunt. Kiran smiled, everything was simpler then.

Her mind wandered as she watched the landscape below her, wondering if things would ever go back to being how it used to be. She quietly sighed, life can never go back to the way it was. Kiran’s thoughts continued to mindlessly drift, dwelling on events in the past until Serge started to slowly make a descent. Looking around, she spotted a small thatched roof cottage sitting at the base of the cliff, with a trail of smoke coming from the chimney. Trees surrounded the clearings and they slowly passed it, landing near the edge of the woods, on the other side of a field from the cottage.

“Where are we?” Kiran asked as Claude silently unhooked the clasps of her harness. “This isn’t an Askran outpost, is it?”

“No.” He swung his leg over and jumped down from the saddle, turning back and reaching his arms to help her down. “It’s not.”

“Claude?” Kiran was puzzled, bracing her arms on his shoulder, as he gently lifted her down, gripping her by the waist.

“You’re late.” A stern voice called out from the woods.

“Like, by a whole two minutes…” Claude mumbled under his breath, before turning towards their greeter. “Good morning Soren!”

“W-what’s going on?” Kiran was stunned, why was Soren here?

“Training, we only have a small window.” Soren barked, marching over. “Let’s go Kiran!”

“I’m… confused.” Kiran furrowed her brows, she still hadn’t moved from where she was standing. “Alfonse said no more training.”

“Well, what Alfonse doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.” Soren chuckled mischievously, before clearing his throat and composing himself. He turned away and marched into the field towards the cottage, gesturing for her to follow. “Come on, don’t make me regret this!”

Kiran stepped forward to follow him, stopping when she realized Claude was starting to mount up again. “You’re not coming?”

“Nah, as much as I would love to watch you get smacked around a bit, it’s best that I don’t.” He laughed, hoisting himself up. “I’ll take care of picking-up those reports, so no one questions why we were gone.”

 _“Kiran?!”_ Soren yelled, crossing the field and marching towards the cottage.

“Don’t worry about it!” Claude pulled at Serge’s reins, turning the wyvern towards the clearing to take flight. Kiran kept pacing walking beside them. “Get going! I’ll be back to pick you up in a bit.”

Kiran nodded, stepping back from the wyvern as it stretched out its wings. She ran across the field to catch up with Soren, the straps of her harness hitting her legs and digging in to her shoulders. “Soren?” She twisted her arms, pulling them threw the upper harness, and letting the shoulder straps fall around her waist. “I don’t understand.” She asked, trying to keep up with his stride as he crossed the field, the morning dew soaking into the surface of her boots. “Alfonse decided that training me to fight was a lost cause.”

“Well, I disagree.” Soren’s heavy coat dragged through the damp grass. The orange light bouncing off the cliff highlighted the dark greens that tinted his long hair.

Kiran stopped, her eyes widened. “Y-you… do?”

“Yes.” Soren stopped to look at her. “So I have taken it upon myself to move forward with teaching you without Alfonse’s knowledge.”

“Aren’t you worried he’ll find out when Claude reports this to Canas?” She was surprised to learn that Soren would go against the prince’s wishes, but Kiran knew that Canas would never do such a thing.

Soren smirked at the question. “Claude won’t report this to Canas.” He stated, starting to trudge through the field again at a pace Kiran could keep up with.

“How can you be so sure of that?” She asked, kicking through the wet grass. She trusted Claude to keep her secrets, but she couldn’t understand why Soren trust him.

“Because Claude works for me.” Soren laughed, approaching the cottage path. “He just works for Canas and the Exploration Corps on record. In truth I have planted him there to keep an eye on things for me and report anything unusual.”

Kiran shook her damp boots off when she reached the light stone gravel pathway that lead to the cottage porch. _Claude reports to Soren?_ She thought to herself, _then Claude must have told him everything already! That explains why he wanted me to talk to Soren so badly too. What a jerk!_ “So you know what happened?” Kiran grumbled, following Soren up the path. “He told you?”

“About how you used Breidablik while on the coast this summer?” Soren kept walking. “But it wasn’t Claude that told me about that. Let’s just say a little dragon, who mumbles in her sleep, is easy to convince to tell her secrets with a bit of ice cream.”

“Damn it Tiki!” Kiran cursed the young manakeet for spilling the beans under her breath, but she was relieved to know that Claude had not told Soren anything yet. “So the only reason I’m here now is because you found out I was able to use Breidablik?”

“Correct. You come from a world without magical arts. I really doubted you would ever learn to use your tome, and learning to wield Breidablik’s power on your own should have been impossible. Or at least, that’s what I thought.” Soren stopped just shy of the porch to the cottage and shrugged. “But you have proven me wrong.”

“Pardon me. What was that last part?” Kiran thought she might have misheard, Soren admitted he was wrong, she never thought she would see the day. She couldn’t let this chance slip by. She smirked, lifting her hand to her ear. “You were what now?”

“Don’t push it.” Soren snorted, “We’re not going to go easy on you.” He warned her a coy smiled creeped across his face.

“ _We_?” She quietly questioned, tilting her head, and looking around briefly.

Kiran jumped when the door of the cottage opened and a figure dressed in heavy mage attire stepped out on to the wooden porch. The loops of his chain softly jangled together as he held his tome close to his chest, his hood pulled down almost fully over his face.

“You are looking well summoner.” Bramimond softly spoke.

“Oh! So this is where they have you stashed away!” Kiran smiled, and approached him, shaking his hand in greeting. It had been so long since she had seen him. She could tell his appearance was changing, morphing into her likeness under his cloaked face. She realized this is the reason why Claude could not come so close to the house. If Bramimond had taken on anyone’s appearance that shouldn’t be here there would have been questions. “How do you like it?”

“I like the peace and quiet of the countryside thank-you.” His voice was gentle, changing tones, and his hands were smooth and soft.

“You’re not lonely?” Kiran inquired, she knew it must have been hard for him to be separated from the other heroes even if it was overwhelming to be around them.

“After all this time. No, I am not lonely.” Bramimond reassured her, smiling her smile. “I enjoy my talks with the young prince when he visits to escort me to the Aether Keep.”

“Maybe I should visit more often…” Kiran wondered out loud.

“That would be a gift.” He nodded, “You are more than welcomed here anytime you wish to visit.”

“Alright, enough talk.” Soren sneered. Kiran had not noticed that he had walked a few paces away while her and Bramimond chatted. He smirked and pulled out his tome, the pages fluttering through themselves as he passed his hand over them.

Kiran stepped down from the porch, curious about what Soren was doing. He didn’t expect her to be prepared for training if she didn’t even know that it was going to happen, did he? “But I didn’t bring my tome.”

“I don’t want you to use your tome.” Soren continued to move his hand slowly over the pages, his dark eyes locking with the summoner’s. flecks of teal sparks flickered around his body.

“What?!” Kiran cried out, she touched the ancient Askran weapon at her side. “I can’t just use it on a whim. Breidablik just doesn’t work like that.”

“Then you better figure out how it works and quickly.” The motion he used over his tome began to quicken, flashes of green energy licked from the pages, he no longer spoke to her, but started to recite the incantation he wanted to use.

“You’re not serious?!” Kiran called out, she could feel the breeze begin to pick-up from where he was standing. She turned to Bramimond who watched on the porch. “He’s not serious, right?”

“You better draw your weapon summoner.” Bramimond instructed, his voice serious, the tension and electricity rising in the air around them.

“Soren, please, don’t make me!” Kiran pleaded, she recalled how she used Breidablik to protect Tiki, how strong its power was. Her hands shook as she unlatched the fastened on her holster. “It’s not safe; I don’t want to hurt you!” She cried out, trying to persuade Soren to stop. Kiran pulled the weapon out pointing it at Soren, maybe this is one of his stupid tests, he’ll stop if I show him I’m the authority here. “I’m your summoner!” Kiran yelled out, her voice cracking. “I order you to stop!”

His eyes widened and he gave his command, a flash of green light swirled around his feet, a funnel surrounding him. Soren extended his arm forward, the whirl of energy picked up speed. Kiran felt the familiar wave of power washing over her entire body, like warm water, bubbling in a hot spring, she allowed it to move through her and toward her arms, flooding the barrel of Breidablik with soft light.

Soren’s attack rushed towards Kiran, the pale green winds kicking up debris as it ripped through the surface of the ground. _He’s really doing this!_ She thought, Kiran choked back tears, _I’m sorry Soren_. She unleashed the power that had been rapidly building within her weapon. The light from the barrel was blinding as it flashed, leaving no shadow to any object around them. A loud crack thundered, deafening her for a brief second, followed by a low rumbled that continued to travel quickly throughout the area, causing birds in the woods to take flight. The concentrated light the blasted from the barrel of Breidablik pierced through and pushed back the funnel of winds Soren had created, causing his green energy to dissipate and sputter out. The beam of light energy Kiran made cut through anything that was in its path, leaving a scorched hole in the distant tree line.

Exhausted and mortified by what she had done, Kiran dropped Breidablik and fell to her knees. _He’s gone_ , she began to weep, _I killed him_. She felt Bramimond’s hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “Look summoner.” He quietly said. “All is well.”

“Unbelievable!” Soren laughed, popping his head up from a hole in the ground, dust and debris clung to his hair. He reached out and pulled himself out, happily striding over. “I have heard stories about your encounter with Hel, but to really see it for my own eyes! Amazing Kiran!”

“Asshole!” Kiran scrambled to her feet, she took no joy in what happened and she slapped him hard across the cheek. “I thought I killed you!”

“Nonsense.” Soren sighed, he wasn’t upset with her outburst, he just bushed it off, rubbing the bright red welt she left behind. “I had a plan in place. I’m not an idiot. Bramimond was here to create a rock shield to protect whomever was in peril. Mind you, mine was disintegrated by your blast and I ended up in a hole.”

“You were correct Soren. The summoner can only arouse her powers through emotions. Fear for her life and others being the strongest ones.” Bramimond mused, tucking his tome away and placing his hands within his large sleeves as he folded his arms. “With some practice she should be able to put those emotions aside and wield Breidablik whenever she wants.”

“No!” Kiran cried, she wiped her tear stained cheeks with the back of her hand and sniffed loudly. “It’s too strong! I can’t bring _this_ to the battle field, I’ll hurt someone!” She snatched up Breidablik and shoved it into its holster. “It’s only good for summoning.” She mumbled, turning to walk across the open field to where Claude had dropped her off. There was no way she was going to risk her friends lives by using this weapon to a fight.

“Unfortunately, her emotions are also holding her back.” Bramimond sighed, as he watched Soren chase after the summoner before heading back into his cottage.

Kiran stomped quickly through the field towards the woods. She turned to see Soren right behind her and she picked up the pace. “Leave me alone!” She grumbled loudly, looking up at the dark clouds accumulating in the sky. _Great just what I need. It’s going to rain while I wait out here._ She took shelter in the woods, orange and red leaves littered the ground. The smell of damp earth and incoming rain filled the air and she tried not to slip on their wet surface. Kiran groaned and stopped when she reached the small stream that was flowing from the mountains, unable to move forward and get away.

“What’s wrong with you?” Soren sneered at her, quickly catching-up. “I thought this is what you wanted. Ever since you arrived you have been begging me to put you on missions with the other heroes. Now you’re able to wield one of the strongest weapons in Askr and you refuse to use it. Do you know how many heroes here would like to have that honour?”

“Well they can take it!” Kiran snapped back, cornered in to this conversation. “I’m not… ready for this kind of power.” The sound of thunder rolled from the far distance and it reminded her of the sound Breidablik made when she used it on Soren and shiver ran up her spine. “It would be dangerous If I knew how to use it. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Where are you getting these ideas?” Frustrated Soren touched his brow, shaking his head. “Does this have to do with your dreams?”

“So Claude _did_ tell you?” She huffed and crossed her arms pushing her tongue against her cheek.

“Nooo, Alfonse told me.” Soren suspiciously drew out his words, raising his eyebrow. “But thank-you for showing me where Claude’s true loyalties lay.” He chuckled, his anger melting away as he realized the root of their problem. “Regardless, Alfonse came to me concerned about your well-being. Asked me to watch you. I just assumed he was overreacting again, but you have been acting more unusual… than normal.” He sat down on the large rocks of the bank, gesturing for her to join him. “Tell me about your dreams.”

“I’m not even sure where to start. I can’t even remember most of them. Just bits and pieces.” She confessed, walking towards Soren and sitting on a rock beside him. The sound of the stream gently flowing was calming. Kiran sighed, she hadn’t told anyone the full details of her recurring nightmare. The memories of it filled her with dread. “There’s one in particular. It’s always the same, I wake-up in the fields of Midgard’s Shield, the sun is high above my head, it’s incredibly hot and all I smell is copper. The smell of blood, and that’s because it’s everywhere and I’m covered in it.” She began to recount, she stared at the water and the leaves that floated by, unable to look at her friend.

“I sit up and there’s a battle raging around me. The heroes from out barracks fighting. At first I’m really confused, what side am I on? I don’t know where to go. I have friends on both sides. I’m asking myself, ‘why are they hurting each other?’ They shouldn’t be fighting. I cry out to them, pleading for them to put their weapons down, but they don’t listen to me. They just keep on slaughtering one another.” Kiran paused, she had always kept the details about what happened next to herself. Ashamed and scared of what people might think if they heard them.

“Then I get angry, like, angrier than I have ever been before in my entire life. I don’t care why they’re doing this anymore. I just want them to stop. To respect me. To show them how much stronger I am than they are. Punish them for teasing me when I was little.” Kiran felt her face flush, remembering the emotions that she felt on the field, she couldn’t look at Soren beside her. “So I take Breidablik out and I aim it at the nearest hero, unleashing its full power on them and blowing them apart like they were made of wet tissue paper, and it feels good. It feels really good.” Kiran croaked, hot tears running down her cheeks, the memories of herself laughing in the field as she took their lives like they were insects. “So I keep going. I take aim again and I sweep parts of the entire field, disintegrating a lot of them in one fell swoop. I keep doing this until the field is completely silent and I’m alone. There’s nothing left but chard grass and the smell of copper in the air.” Kiran cradled her face in her hands, too afraid to look over at Soren. “And it’s so easy to cut them down. It shouldn’t be that easy. I shouldn’t have this kind of power.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Soren gently placed a hand on her back. “The fact that you acknowledged how dangerous Breidablik’s full power is, just proves that you are the one that should be wielding it. It chose you Kiran, it brought you to Askr. You just need to learn how to control it.”

“But it’s better if I don’t know how.” Kiran lifted her face up, breathing in the fresh air. “Everyone would be safer!”

“No, they would be safer if you actually knew how to use it. Right now you’re more dangerous. Anything can set you off, and you have no way to control it.” Soren argued. He paused for a moment, and calmly asked. “Why did you say that you wanted to punish the heroes for teasing you when you were little?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t really think about that.” Kiran shrugged, wiping away her tears. “Does it even matter?”

“Probably not, but those thoughts and actions don’t sound like you at all. Like it was someone else projecting their anger onto you.” Soren stared out into the woods thinking. The low sounds of thunder and the babbling of the stream filled the space of their silence. “Let’s pretend there was something out there that didn’t want you to learn how to control Breidablik. Dissuade you from your original goals.” He smirked in disbelief, amused by his own thought. “What a clever way to fool you in to believing that the one thing you have to protect those you care about would actually hurt them. To fear using the very thing you need to save them.”

Kiran’s heart sank while she listened to his musings. Maybe that’s what the álfr want? Why they seemed to be interested in her. She cleared her throat before she continued. “Soren. There’s more.”

“Of course there is.” Soren sighed. “There’s always more.”

* * *

Soren stared blankly at Kiran for what felt like an eternity. Fed-up, Kiran clenched her fist tightly and yelled at him. “Stop looking at me like a have two heads!”

“Quiet.” He furrowed his brow, hushing her. “I’m thinking.”

Why was he dragging this out? She wondered, it was already hard enough, why was he not responding to what she just told him. “Thinking of having me committed?” She softly prodded. “You don’t believe me either.” She huffed and crossed her arms.

“Don’t be foolish!” Soren snapped, flicking his hair then composing himself. “Truth is I’m not sure what I believe anymore. Too many times I have been ignorant of the strange events in Askr. I won’t make those mistakes again.” He confessed, standing up and stretching.

Kiran shivered, following his lead. The weather was turning cooler and they had spent a good amount of time by the stream. Kiran explained to Soren everything she had shared with the others, not leaving any details out.

“As far as I’m concerned we are going to treat these álfr as a real and dangerous threat.” He looked up, as the sound of thunder grew closer. “I can’t force you Kiran to learn to use Breidablik, but if I’m correct, it may be the only way to stop them.” He grabbed on to her shoulders, squeezing them tight. “Are you willing to continue with your training?”

“If what you think is true, they’ll try to stop me. The nightmares will get worse, won’t they?” Kiran sadly asked. She knew the answer in her heart, but she was hoping to hear something different.

“Yes, most likely.” Soren answered honestly. “I will have Ranulf pulled from the shield so you don’t have to be alone at night and I will send Laslow to take his place in the field.”

“I’ll keep going.” She nodded. “If the álfr do ramp-up the events in my dreams, then that will just confirm your theory. What else can I do in the meantime?”

“Continue to follow-up with Claude. Talk to the clinician you spoke of. I’m also curious to know more about this ‘collapse of dreams.’ Continue to share your dreams with him in case there is any more overlap between you two.” Soren turned and began walking out of the woods and into the clearing. Dark clouds moved swiftly above their heads. “I will take the journal, make a copy of what we need and return it to the Special Collections room.”

“Are you going to tell Alfonse?” Kiran grimaced, she was afraid to ask.

“No. He has quite enough to deal with right now and I would rather not involve the crown unless I’m forced to.” Soren shook his head and tucked the journal he held into his sleeve. “I’ll keep this in our small circle of heroes. There’s no need to alarm the entire barracks, that will only spread misinformation.”

Kiran sighed in relief to hear his plans elegantly laid out. “Thank-you Soren.” She hugged him tight.

“There’s Claude.” He looked up, wiggling out of her embrace as he pointed at the silhouette of Serge flying overhead. “You should be on your way. There’s a storm coming and I have much to do and little time to do it.”

Claude effortlessly maneuvered his partner through the strong winds, landing her in the field. “Hey, ready to go?” He called out, cupping his hand to the side of his mouth.

“Yeah!” Kiran pulled the strapping of the harness she still wore over her shoulders as she and Soren walked out to greet him. Claude held his hand out and she was able to take a running start, leaping up and over the wyverns back with his help. Claude took a moment to secure the hooks of her harness as Kiran reached around his waist and held on.

“For Askr’s sake Kiran, try being a little professional!” Soren barked and rolled his eyes. “Use the passenger’s grips there by your legs to hold on!”

“The what?!” Kiran felt her face flush and she looked down at her side. Just as Soren pointed out, there were handle straps stitched into the saddle for someone to hold on to. “Oh.” She quietly squeaked, embarrassed that she clung on to Claude during their flight there.

“We’ll talk again soon.” Soren began to back-up towards the cottage, the wind wiping through his long hair. “Oh, and Claude? Report to my office before you return to the barracks this evening. We need to discuss your position in my administration.”

“Aye, aye!” Claude confirmed, watching him leave. He pulled on Serge’s reins and her wings began to extend, strenuously pumping, as she gave one good push off the ground, heaving them off the flat surface to the field with a little help from the blowing winds. “That doesn’t sound good…”

Kiran grimaced, and pushed her hair back. “Sorry, I might have gotten you in some hot water.”

“Don’t worry about me and Soren,” Claude laughed. “I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want me to be here!”

“Also, I told Soren everything.” Kiran confessed, quickly looking back at the dark clouds behind them. “You were right. I should have from the start.”

“So where to now? Still want to track down that doctor?” He called back, his voice being carried by the wind.

“Yeah! I have the details in my bag.” She yelled, a small amount of turbulence caused her to gasp and she gripped the handles near her legs harder. “We should go see Sakura first.” Her voice cracked.

Claude’s hand slowly reached around to his back, grasping hers and pulling it off the handle she gripped. He pulled her arm around his body, holding it against his chest. Kiran followed suit with her other arm, holding him tight. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Besides, this way I’ll always know that your still behind me!” Claude chuckled, “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Kiran laughed and smiled to herself. “Right.”


	7. Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran finds Sakura to help follow-up with the Arkran doctor who may know something about the álfr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Oct. 12, 2020. "Facing desperate odds, the Order makes a damning decision."

Kiran entered the glass enclosure, the bridge to the castle infirmary, her boots softly squeaked on the polished tile floor, damp after being caught in the rain descending from Askr’s Roost with Claude. They decided to split up, he had to deliver the reports he picked up to Canas and she would talk with Sakura, find the doctor. Kiran looked out through the windows, gray clouds engulfed the bridge in the sky as steady rain pelted the glass. The infirmary was a stronghold carved into the mountainside that was adjacent to the castle. A safe place for the injured to rest, and a source close to the Aether flows to take advantage of their healing properties.

The summoner crossed the threshold of the cavernous facility. The blue and gold Askran banner hung proudly overhead as she entered. Kiran had always been in awe when she had visited, one would have assumed this location to be dark, damp and dreary, but the Askran had used their refined skills in masonry and magic to transform this place to be inviting, bright and warm. Veins of polished of yellow sunstone glowed throughout gray walls. The heat from the earth below radiating through the rock, large orbs of light hung from the ceiling mimicking the daylight. Truly a place for healing and life.

Kiran crossed the lobby, a large sitting area surrounded by plants, and trees that touched the ceiling. Professionals congregated in groups chatting or rushing off to complete tasks. Hardly anyone noticed the summoner enter, she was not dress in her ordinary summoners garb and it was not unusual to see a new face from the Order around here.

She smiled at the receptionist and they nodded back, confirming it was fine to go on ahead. Kiran had full access to the Heroes Wing, perks of her role. She turned the corner, entering the quiet wing, heading to the lecture hall to find Sakura. Familiar healers from many different worlds were busy honing their skills beside Askran scholars working to share and gain knowledge. All with a common goal of bettering their practices. Hope lived here, that’s what Kiran always thought. She had always been grateful for those that dedicated their lives to those in need. Especially ever since Ranulf had come so close to losing his leg. She walked by the familiar room he had spent those horrible weeks in, recalling how helpless she had felt as she watched them work to save his mobility. The days she spent crying at his bedside waiting for him to wake-up from his quiet coma. It was then, in those painful days, she realized that Askr had the power to change people. Change people for the better and the worse. Was she better than she was before she arrived? Or worse…

Kiran pushed ahead, entering the lecture hall to find Sakura and Mercedes setting-up models and text books for the next seminar.

“Kiran! What a lovely surprise!” Mercedes smiled kindly, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Thank-you, I’m just here to see Sakura.” Kiran said quietly, exchanging glances with the Hoshido priestess and gesturing towards the hallway, Sakura blindly followed. Her long Askran medical robes flowing freely around her small frame, a single medallion that singled her out as not just another healer from the Order but a trusted worker for Askr. “I was hoping you could help me find information about a Askran clinician that works here?” Kiran asked when they were out of earshot. “I would like to talk to him about a patient of his and… _you know what.”_

__

“Of course! Let’s go and check the records room. There’s a directory there. See where he works.” Sakura beamed, happy to help.

Kiran quietly follow Sakura through the maze of corridors, grateful that her friend was just a quiet. No pressure to make pointless small talk in each other presence. A comfortable silence. She rubbed her sore arm, she wasn’t use to the recoil of Breidablik’s powerful blast, and wielding it that morning was starting taking its toll on her. She tried to stretched the ache out, which did not go unnoticed by Sakura, who shyly looked away. The light yellow glow of the sunstone highlighting the dark circles under Sakura’s red eyes, Kiran could see now how tired she look. “Bad night?” Kiran inquired, before Sakura could ask about her arm.

“Y-yes.” Sakura hesitated, lowering her voice so it didn’t echo off the stone walls. “Nightmares. Just like you said.”

A knot began to form in Kiran’s stomach, maybe Sakura had shared her dreams she wondered. Soren did not wavier when she told him about her and Claude dreaming the same events, but he didn’t recall having the same dreams as she. That didn’t mean her other close friends had not. Kiran thought she could prod a bit further, find out if Claude wasn’t alone. “Were your dreams about fighting against other heroes on the Shield, or maybe an argument with Sothis?”

“N-no. Nothing like that.” Sakura shook her head, folding her hands together, slowly moving them one on top of each other nervously. “About how… he…”

“It’s okay.” Kiran placed her hand gently on Sakura, rubbing her upper arm. “You can tell me.”

“He… he broke up with me!” Sakura sobbed, throwing her arms around Kiran. “He found out about my royal status and my family! I tried to make him understand. Make him understand why I lied about who I was. But he was having none of my excuses…” Sakura pushed her tearful face into Kiran soft scarf, hiccupping between sniffles. “My heart still feels broken. Shattered into a million pieces.”

“I’m sorry Sakura.” Kiran rubbed her friends back.

Sakura sniffed, lifting her head up and pulling her robes straight, putting on a brave face. “It was truly an awful experience, but now I know I have to come clean when this is over.” She continued to match down the corridor, stopping in front a large set of heavy wooden doors. “Tell him the truth, whatever outcome it might be.”

“Let me know if you need help with that, okay?” Kiran offered, glancing up at the painted Askran script that simply stated ‘Records’ over the entry.

“Here we are!” Sakura pushed a medallion that hung from her robes into a plaque on the door, unlocking the latch and pushing through entering the records room. The quiet room was similar in style to a library, stacks fill with boxes, files and tomes as far as she could see. Dim and cool compared to the rest of the infirmary. “What’s his name?” Sakura asked standing in front of a large information map. List of names along the side with corresponding numbers, departments for each physician’s location.

“Edman, Doctor E. Edman.” Kiran dug out the parchment Soren had given her to keep, taking the journal back with him. She handed it to Sakura, who squinted at the wall of names.

“Oh. I don’t think I have met him yet, and here I thought I knew everyone!” She mused, double checking the name on the note. Sakura looked over to the nearby record-keeper at their desk. “Excuse me? Are you familiar with Dr. Edman?”

“Oh, I am dreadfully sorry. I’m afraid Dr. Edman passed over a few years ago.”

“T-thank-you.” Sakura stumbled over her words, not expecting the answer she received. She turned back to the summoner to break the bad news. “Looks like a dead-end.” She quietly said, innocently unaware of the tasteless pun, deep in her own thoughts. She pulled Kiran aside, and whispered so the record-keeper would not overhear she. “Do you remember the name of the patient? We really shouldn’t,” she nervously looked around. “but we could talk to them directly.”

Kiran clung on to Sakura’s arm and whispered back, stressing each of her words. “Are you sure Sakura?”

“Yes. Anything to stop these nightmares!” She determinedly stated, walking deeper into the record stacks. “Keep up!”

* * *

Kiran kept pace with Sakura as the priestess lead the way, her long Askran medical robes bellowed as she swiftly walked down the stone stairs of the tower with a bounce in her step. They had found the information they had been looking for and located Dr. Edman’s patent, Miss. Kolbeck, in the castle laundry facility, known as the Birdbath. A small encampment located between the back castle and the base of the cliff near the river. It was common for those who had been in trouble with the law to be place in labour positions in the castle once found not guilty, or deemed safe for them to reenter society. Many had nowhere else to go, no homes or family to go back to.

Sakura pushed her way through the crowded, hot and humid laundry hut, stopping to ask a supervisor about Miss. Kolbeck. Bags of linens and articles of clothing piled in the corner. Sheets hung from the rafters, sweaty red face workers ironing and steaming, paying no mind to the strangers that came calling. Kiran watched Sakura from behind, admiring her courage, something she only tapped into when she was determined to complete a task, or she feared of letting someone down. Sakura quickly turned back to Kiran and gestured her to follow outside. Entering a long covered pavilion. Men and women rushing to haul buckets of water from the river, long wooden yokes over their shoulders. Under the pavilion cover, rows of workers furiously scrubbing fabrics in basins in front of them. Pushing and pulling on washboards with bars of alkali soaps and bowls of different unknown powders. Kiran found the fumes in the air noxious, her mind swam. This was worst then being inside, she struggled not to cough, her eyes, throat and lungs burning, trying to adjust to the hellish environment.

Sakura stopped in front of a woman, she did not look more then in her late thirties but her face was creased and sagging. Gray hair tucked under a worker’s bonnet, yellow stains on her fingers and lips. Tell-a-tale signs that the stress of life and substance abuse had aged her before her time. Sakura cleared her irritated throat. “Excused me Miss. Kolbeck?”

“Who’s asking?!” Miss. Kolbeck barked back without looking up, continuing to scrub the items in her tin tub.

“Uh..” Sakura hesitated, the wind in her sail sucked out by the rude woman. “My name is S-Sakura…”

“Well spit it out girl!” Miss. Kolbeck gestured with her hand, her pruned fingers splashing water at the priestess causing Sakura jump back.

Kiran intervened, stepping in front of Sakura, bringing about Miss. Kolbeck’s attention to herself. “We’re from the Order of Heroes, ma’am. We just need a moment of your time to ask you about your sessions with Dr. Edman?”

“Edman?” Miss. Kolbeck sneered, scrubbing the sheets in her washtub. “Why don’t you go ask him!”

“He passed away. I’m sorry.” Kiran gently said, trying to soften the news.

“Dead?” Miss. Kolbeck stopped, her face blank of emotion, and Kiran waited with baited breath for the shock to ware away. The washerwoman smirked, erupting in a full belly of laughter. “Good ridden! He only cared about his work. What poor folk like us could do for him! You want dirt on him, I got it, but it’s going to cost ya!”

“We’re not looking for information about him.” Kiran explained. “We want to know what happened to you.”

“Me?!” Miss. Kolbeck dug her hand into her skirt pocket pulling a small cloth pouch and pulling out some dried summers-weed, an expensive herb used to ease pain on the battlefield. She stuck a leaf in-between her yellow teeth and her cheek. A sly smiled twisted her face and wagged her finger at Kiran. “The grand Order of Heroes needs something from me?” She smugly rolled up her sleeve, scars from a life of tough work spotted her rough skin, she crossed her arms, looking down on the summoner. “Well, well, well. That’s gonna cost ya too! five pouches of dried summers-weed.”

“Five?!” Sakura cried from behind Kiran. “You do know this is the Order’s summoner you are making your demands to?”

“The summoner?! Well make that ten pouches than.” Miss. Kolbeck snorted loudly, not missing the opportunity to take advantage of the request. “And I wanna see them before you leave! No outworlder tricks!”

Sakura moved to take a stand against what she believed was an outrageous request. “It’s okay Sakura.” Kiran placed her arm out in front of the priestess, bringing her to her senses. “There’s some in the Order’s stores. Can you go get it? Just don’t let the commander see you.”

Sakura opened her mouth, beginning to argue back, make a case why the woman should be willing to cooperate without bribery. It was always righteous heroes always had a harder time coming to terms with the way the world worked outside their bubble. Kiran had observed this again and again over time and was prepared to stand her ground against Sakura, but the small innocent priestess changed her mind, nodding to the summoner and giving Miss. Kolbeck a disapproving glance before leaving to do what was asked of her.

“Going behind the Orders back, huh? I like that.” Miss. Kolbeck scoffed, tucking away a second leaf in her cheek, and rung out the linen in her tub to look busy. “So what is it you want to know? I was nothing more than a mere washerwoman before I killed my daughter and landed myself here.”

“You said your daughter was kidnapped by ‘dream-folk’ in your sessions with Dr. Edman.” Kiran raised an eyebrow. “At least that’s what his reports say.”

“Look girlie. There’s a reason why I was locked away with that doctor, and I don’t wanna go back.” Miss. Kolbeck told her bluntly, shrugging. “I was confused then, now I’m not.”

“I’m not here to evaluate you.” Kiran moved closer, hoping to gain the woman’s trust. “I believe what you told Dr. Edman is true. That’s why I’m here. I don’t think you’re crazy. I need to know more. Besides it might help us find her. Don’t you want to find your daughter?”

Miss. Kolbeck paused, taking stock of the summoner, eyeing her head-to-toe before leaning over her washing tub. “She was a dreamer, my daughter. Always had her head stuck in the clouds. Napping on the banks of the river while I worked hard to provide for us! Strange girl too, she would make-up wild stories about playing with her friends. Friends she had met in her dreams. As she got older I put her to work of course, as is my right. I always told her dreams aren’t going to fill the bellies, but the silly ninny didn’t want to work, she wanted to go play. Play in her dreams! Can you believe it?” Miss. Kolbeck scoffed and shook her head, placing her hands on her hips. “Caught the girl asleep a few times when she should have been washin’ the linens, but I put her straight. No work done, no food given. That’s my rule. Send her to sleep hungry! What do I care? I didn’t ask for the extra mouth to feed.”

Miss. Kolbeck’s mind drifted, recalling her memories, she looked down at her work, her voice becoming hushed. “Then one night I saw it in the shadows, from my bedroom. Sneaking around the pile of hay by the hearth where the girl slept. I held my breath and heard her giggling like the fool she was. That monster was her friend!” Miss. Kolbeck glanced up at Kiran, locking her blood-shot eyes with the summoner. “Scared out of my wits, I had to get away, save myself! So I snuck out of my bed and as I crept by the doorway I hear the bloody devil talking to her. Filling her head that she had been chosen to become a hero! To save their world from collapsing. Fading away. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! So I ran straight for the window and climbed out as fast as I could, hid in the thicket. Waited for the sun to rise before I went back in there.”

“You…” Kiran waivered, swallowing hard, her throat felt dry from the fumes and she suppressed a cough through labored breath. “You left your daughter with that thing?”

“Don’t judge me!” Miss. Kolbeck hissed, the fear she expressed washed away with a wave of anger. “You have no idea what it’s like to raise a child. I can tell you don’t.” She scoffed and grabbed a spoiled set of linens and dunked them in the gray water, mumbling under her breath. Miss. Kolbeck stopped and looked at the summoner, pointing her finger at Kiran, her face twisted in hate. “And don’t think you wouldn’t have done the same if you were me! Where was your precious Order of Heroes thirteen years ago to save my daughter? Maybe if I had them, I might have been brave too!”

“You’re right, I can’t judge. Please continue.” Kiran croaked a false apology, forcing herself to hold on a bit longer. “What happened in the morning?”

“Well when I entered the hut, I slowly crept in, allowing the light to go first. I checked the hearth. Nothing was there. She was gone! That thing, whatever it was, took her with it, wherever it went to. Gone. Just like that!” Miss. Kolbeck snapped her fingers, water sputtering off the pruned tips. “Not a trace of her. But the debts where still there. They sill had to be paid, so I went back to work. I figured we were both better off this way. She wanted to play with her friends, and I wanted one less mouth to feed. It wasn’t before long that folks in the town started talking. When I told them the truth, well they thought I was mad. Must have gotten rid of the girl on my own. Killed my own daughter they said. It wasn’t before long the royal guard were knocking on my door. The village folk had gone to the authorities and they me hauled away.” Miss. Kolbeck paused, her attention moved the doorway as Sakura returned to them, carrying a bag in her arms. “Ah! Here’s your little friend back!”

Sakura gave the woman a dirty look, and handed Kiran the bag. “No one saw me.”

Kiran nodded, looking in the bag, ten small pouches of summers-weed. The strong aroma slapped her in the face, she felt sick and at her limit and just wanted to leave. She didn’t say a word and handed the bag to Miss. Kolbeck who eagerly snatched it away, checking its contents, opening a pouch and inhaling loudly. Kiran felt nauseous at the sight, she turned to leave. There was no more information here, just a woman and her vices.

“Summoner?” Miss. Kolbeck called out, putting the bag aside. For the first time that hour her face looked remorseful, sorry for what she had done. For abandoning her daughter to the álfr in the shadows. “Do you really think you can get my girl back?”

“We’ll try.” Kiran wanted to reassure her, wanted to give hope to the hopeless. Maybe she misjudged the woman, after all how could she ever know what it was like, this woman’s life. “I’ll make sure to notify you if anything comes up.”

“Good.” A wicked smile crept across Miss. Kolbeck’s face as she held a leaf of summers-weed to her nose blissfully. “The traveling market pays good coin for girls her age.”

Kiran felt like she had been punched in the gut. It was clear now this was no mother. She deserved to be here in this hell. She had half a mind to reach out and take back what truly was most precious to the vile woman, but Kiran stopped herself. All she could do was remove the prospect, the hope of getting more. “Your daughter’s not coming back to you Miss Kolbeck. You killed her yourself, remember?”

Miss. Kolbeck glared at the summoner as she killed the woman’s dream. Any trust that might have been established shattered, replaced by hate. The same hate reserved for everyone that reminded the woman where she was, and how she got there.

Kiran turned away, she could feel the hate burning on her back, hate for the doctor, hate for the elite, hate for her and the people that would use and abuse to get what they needed.

“Do you really think she killed her daughter?” Sakura quietly asked, following the summoner closely behind.

“No, and if we do find her daughter, I wouldn’t let that woman know about it.” Kiran realized it wasn’t the woman’s hate that she felt on her back, it was her own. It pushed her forward, moving her away from she hated. She hated that she wasn’t much different than Miss. Kolbeck, the doctor or the elite, she used people too, those unfortunate to find themselves in her path and she hated herself for it. “Not all monsters are hiding in the shadows Sakura.”

* * *

Kiran rubbed the soft wool of her socks between her fingers as they dried by the fire. She gave them a shake and flipped them over on the hot brick of the heath, sitting back on her knees in the front room of 1606 Fljót House. She pulled her thick cardigan tighter around her. She had removed her wet clothes and taken a hot bath as soon as she arrived home that evening. Declining Sakura’s invitation to dine with her and the other heroes in the hall. The day had taken its toll. Between using Breidablik, talking to Soren and then listening to Miss. Kolbeck, Kiran decided to return home early, before the sun set. So she hired a carriage to take her home. A bit pricey, more than she would have like to have paid, but well worth the coin to avoid walking home in the cold rain.

Standing over a pot of slumgullion stew, she had hastily mixed together with scraps of meals over the last few days, Kiran wondered if she should have followed-up with Claude before she left the castle. She was fearful that he might have been sick-and-tired of dealing with the Order’s summoner and her problems and she wanted to give him the space he needed. He was a new hero to Askr after all, here to fight for the Order not for her. She had already crossed a line, and taken advantage of him. Kiran pondered while she stared into the pot as the thick orange bubbles slowly popped, her mind kept coming back to Miss. Kolbeck abandoning her daughter. _Would I have done the same if it were me?_

The house was quiet, save the cracks and pops of the wood in the fire. She pushed herself to her feet, picking up her empty bowl and tea cup from the low table and crept quietly to the kitchen. It was moments like this that made her wish for a radio or a television set. Just one channel, she thought, even if it was some two-hour infomercial about some shitty product that actually made your life harder. Anything to drown out the silence. She poured herself another cup of hot water to chase away the cold she felt in her bones, and stared at the left-over stew, contemplating a second helping.

The frames shook as the front door slammed open against the wall, and closed again. She to drop the ladle on the stone floor. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard her name called out hoarsely immediately after. “ _Kiran_?!”

“Ranulf? What are you doing back so soon?” Kiran gasped, entering the hallway and saw her roommate slumped over, bracing himself against the wall, coughing hard. He was soaked head to toe, puddles of water gathering at his boots. “You’re soaking wet! Let me get a towel!” She reached into the bathroom across from her and grabbed a thick large towel the hung on the wall, running over and wrapping it around his bare shoulders.

“I r-ran all the way here after I got S-Soren’s message.” Ranulf stuttered through his chattering teeth.

“It’s been raining all day! You hate the rain!”

“I didn’t want you to be alone at night…” He grumbled, steadying himself on her shoulder while he removed his boots, dropping them on the floor with a wet thud, resting against the wall after, panting through labored breath.

“You could have waited one night!” Kiran scolded him sharply, was he out of his mind? She stomped into his bedroom, pushing long vines out of her way and pulled out some dry, warm clothes from his messy top drawer. “I would have been fine.” She told him returning to the hallway.

“I-I…” His eyelids grew heavy, and Ranulf inhaled deeply two to three times in a row, trying to stifle a sneeze. “I… could-couldn’t…” he snorted, trailing off.

Kiran tucked the thermals she brought him under her arm, and pushed her hand under his headband, resting the back of her hand against his forehead. “You’re burning up!” She exclaimed as he slumped over into her arms. Kiran struggled to stand under his dead weight, doing her best to support him on her shoulder and keeping him upright. “Here, get by the fire.” Kiran helped Ranulf to the sitting room, placing him down in front of the hearth. She dropped the change of clothes in front of him. “Put these on.” she instructed, bending down to help him get started with a few fussy clips, his skin was pale and clammy to the touch, his hands fumbled, shaking from the cold. “I’ll bring you hot stew, tea and something for that fever.”

She rushed from the sitting room to the kitchen, pulling open the cupboard, and pulling out a small bag of herbs that could be steeped and consumed to help bring down his temperature and the congestion. The last thing she wanted was for people to put themselves out for her, now her best friend was sick when she needed him to be strong. _He just had to wait one day_ , she thought, ladling bright orange stew into an empty bowl, _why would he take the risk? Well, at least he can’t smell the stew._ She was hopeful that he might actually eat something she made if he could smell it.

Kiran placed the pot of hot water, a couple of cups and the bowl of stew on a serving tray. She slowly walked down the hallway as fast as she could back to the front room, taking care not to spill any of the contents over the side of their vessels. She placed the tray down on the low table across from the fire, kneeling down beside her friend and filling the cup with the hot tea. Kiran handed it to Ranulf who had wrapped himself with the wool blanket that hung on the couch. “Here. Drink this.”

“Tank-you.” Ranulf sniffed, gladly taking the hot drink, and bringing it up to his face, draining the entire cup quickly. He panting loudly through his mouth after, unable to breath through his sinuses. Ranulf had already pulled on the familiar Askran blue thermals that all heroes were given for the colder seasons, and had discarded his soaked clothes and the wet towel to the corner of the room, but had placed his headband by her socks on the heath to dry it out.

“Tell me what happened?” Kiran took the empty cup, placing it on the tray and refilling it with hot water as he reached for the bowl of stew.

“It’s like you said.” He lifted the spoon to his mouth, pausing to look at its questionable contents. Ranulf raised his eyebrow, placing the spoon back in the bowl and setting it aside. “Nightmares.”

“About… Ashnard?” She hesitated. Kiran confirmed Sakura had not shared her dreams like Claude did, but she had to know if Ranulf might have. “Or attacking me outside?”

“No!” he reeled back, a mortified look across his face, “I would never dream of hurting you.” Ranulf pulled the wool blanket tighter around his body, staring into the fire. “I was back in the infirmary, like after my accident. I woke-up in the small bed and you weren’t there. You were always there before.” His voice waivered, his eyes glistened. The light from the fire giving away his emotions. “Then I heard it. The sound of gnawing. That sickening sound of a hundred hungry mouths chewing. Feeding greedily in the dark. The rancid smell of sweat and bile. That stench of death mixed with blood. I tried to move, lift my head to see, but I was still so weak. I had only just woken-up. I only was able to catch quick glances towards the end of the bed. Your… coat hanging over the side, ripped, torn and bloody… it’s eyes staring back at me, mocking me. Those red eyes, crusted in filth. He started laughing, that high pitch chatter, they all did. Each hairy member that made up his body joined his voice and it echoed off the stonewalls. He had come back for me, but not just my life, he wanted more. More pain, more blood, more fear.”

“The Rat King?” Kiran whispered, recalling what Nils had described during their fight in the barn that day. It made sense that his nightmares would revolve around that event. It changed Ranulf, he was never the same after that. Scars and chronic pain in his leg, a fear of rodents he never harboured before. He did well to hide it from the others, but she knew that underneath his brave facade he had changed. Askr changed him.

Ranulf wearily nodded his head, the herbal tea, and his long journey to the capital taking its effort on him. “I knew he had you, and there was nothing I could do but lay there, weak and helpless. listening to that damn sound. I felt the grimy creature’s claws, pulling at the bedding as the small segments that made up his body began to crawl onto the bed with me. Each individual mouth biting and tearing at my flesh as they began to consumed me. All of me! Not just my leg, and his laughter. I’ll never forget it, it’s always the last thing I hear.” Ranulf began coughing hard, congestion in his lungs loosening. He snorted and wheezed, slumping over, and laying his head on Kiran’s lap, stretching out in front of the fire. “I know I came home to protect you, but the truth is, I couldn’t be alone tonight.”

“You’re home now.” Kiran softly reassured him, running her fingers through his messy hair. It was thick and full, but fine enough to dry quickly from the heat of the fire. She was relieved to know he did not share her dreams. What she had experienced was just her projecting her own fears about them, what she thought her friends might be scared of. “You should rest now so you can get better.”

“You won’t leave?” Ranulf mumbled, closing his eyes. His head becoming increasingly heavy on her lap as his body relaxed.

“No, I won’t leave. We’ll camp out here tonight. Keep an eye on each other...” Kiran felt him drift off to sleep and she continued to caress his head. Soft snores slowing reaching crescendos as he fell into a deep slumber. The noise bringing life to the quiet house, a noise that would have grated on the nerves of others, she was thankful for at that moment. “I’ll always protect you.” she whispered, she felt them creeping in the shadows behind her, but she wasn’t scared, she was ready for them. Kiran realized she wasn’t like Miss. Kolbeck at all, she never was. “I’ll protect all of you.”


	8. Sleeping Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sleeping sickness has been discovered in Southern Askr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Oct. 19, 2020. "The Dream shatters, and the Order escapes."  
> I have been clearly riding my own rails with these prompts, just bear with me a bit longer, then I will start actually following them!

The rays of sun cut through the low clouds and morning fog that blanketed the rolling green hills below. Kiran anchored her foot on the craggy rock edge to gazing over, squinting her eyes to see the capital. Ranulf and her had covered quite a bit of distance since they left 1606 Fljót House. She had spent much of the hike trying to keep up with his stride, ‘no time to stop,’ he reminded her. Pushing Kiran to move faster. The events leading up to where they were now had been a blur, she had been stuck in a groggy haze since hearing the knock on her door that morning.

A knock so loud she swore it could have woken the dead. It pulled her out of her slumber. She rubbed her eyes, it was still dark, the sun barely had scraped the sky, and cool air of the night threatened her warm cocoon as she slept on the floor in front of the hearth. The fire had burned itself out, it was nothing but ashes and cinders, giving off no heat that was hot enough to keep the cold from penetrating her nest. She covered her head with her wool blanket, buried herself deeper when she heard Ranulf get up to answer the door. Soren had come calling. Why on earth was he here, she wondered drifting in and out, traveling the middle-ground between sleep and the waking world.

Their voices muffled, she couldn’t make out what their words from her cozy hiding place. Kiran desperately wanted to ignore them and go back to sleep, it was the soundest sleep she had had in months. No dreams, no nightmares. Just quiet darkness, and all she wanted was to return to it. Kiran wasn’t sure how long it had been since Soren’s knock woke her, but she tightened the grip on her blanket as she heard footsteps approaching.

“Kiran?” Ranulf softly whispered, crouching down and rocking her shoulder gently. “Soren dropped by. He has orders for us.”

She poked her face out, a cold rush of air striking her warm face. Kiran groaned pushing herself to sit-up right, keeping the wool blanket bundled around her. “You’re sick.” She mumbled through a yawn, rubbing her eyes, trying to adjust to the dim light. Sometime must have passed since Soren’s knock. Ranulf was already dress, ready to take on the day. “We shouldn’t go anywhere or do anything. You need to rest.”

“Laguz recover quickly from all ailments, not just wounds.” He smiled, closing his eyes, and inhaling deeply with ease. A cloud of vapors forming in the cold air as he exhaled. “I’m fine, thanks to your diligence last night.”

Kiran scrunched up her nose. “Can’t you just pretend to still be sick, then we can go back to sleep?”

“No. I’m afraid not.” Ranulf chuckled, pushing the blanket away from her pouting face, and shaking out her messy curls on top of her bedhead with his hand. “Come on, go wash-up, and dress warm, it will be a long walk. I’ll pack your favorite jam, and make toast once we reach the camp to join the others.”

“The others?” She asked, taking his hand, and he pulled her to her feet, clutching the blanket around her still.

“Apparently there’s an investigation being conducted by the Order in wheat country.” Ranulf handed her the letter Soren gave him and headed to the kitchen to pack a few provisions. “We’re to meet Alfonse and a few others on route to south Askr.” He called out, as she began to climbed the stairs to her room.

Kiran crept up the stairs slowly as she read the letter, the cold iron under her feet sending chills through her body. A report of a sleeping sickness affecting one of the border villages. The Queen asked her son, Alfonse, to take a team from the Order to investigate the reason for this sickness. She folded the letter and set it aside on her dresser, pulling out the clothes she needed for this journey. She knew the reason for this sickness, and Alfonse knew she knew the reason. That’s why he summoned her to his side now. A small nervous pit in her stomach began to grow. A pebble that would grow larger and larger with each step she took that morning, a nervous knot that sat heavy in anticipation of seeing Alfonse again.

They travelled south from the capital, through the rolling hills of farm lands and the strenuous up-hill hike of the narrow passage along the cliff side. Their journey had taken them most of that morning. Arriving at the Orders camp in time to take a short break with the rest of the heroes before heading off again. Heroes from many worlds were there. Kiran looked around the camp when they reached it. Lords and ladies of great renown. Strong fighters that had been handpicked by the prince. She looked for her friends as Ranulf set up a small fire, preparing something for them to eat quickly. Where’s Claude? She wondered, did he not make Alfonse’s grand list? Or maybe Soren already had sent him ahead? She had dropped her bags by their small fire and wandered over to the cliff side, procrastinating, drawing out her time before having to confront the prince.

“I wanted to apologize, Kiran.”

She froze, her daydream of reminiscing about that morning drifting away. She slowly turned her head to greet the all too familiar voice of Alfonse with a quiet nod. He had crept up beside her, his white and gold armour shimmered in the light. His sister, Sharena, and Commander Anna followed close behind him. Kiran’s stomach dropped with the unexpected visit. She didn’t feel ready to have this conversation.

“I should have listen to you when you came to me. It’s a blessing that we found out about this incident before news of this sleeping sickness spread.” Alfonse was calm and collective. His smile was warm and friendly. A sharp contrast to the frustration and stress he displayed when they last spoke. Maybe being away from her, and her problems did agree with him, Kiran thought as she watched him looked out over his kingdom, his lands. He happily inhaled the fresh air, placing his hand on her shoulder. “And with all the information you and Soren have already gathered we should make quick work of these álfr.”

“I hope so!” Sharena chimed-in with enthusiasm. “I would like to be back in time to enjoy the Harvest Festival!”

“And drum up some extra business!” Anna winked, smiling at the idea of making a profit at the event.

“I’m sure it won’t take long Sharena, Anna.” Alfonse laughed and shook his head. It was like nothing had happened at all for the trio. Life in Askr had gone on just the same as it always had for them. “Before you know it your bellies and pockets will be full of candy and coin.”

“The Harvest Festival?” Kiran looked at them confused, everything she had been through these past few months had completely consumed her. “I completely forgot…”

“Maybe it’s best if you sit this one out Kiran.” Alfonse gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, the brilliant blue and white cape caught the updraft, billowing around him and his dark hair fluttered in the breeze, golden tips catching the light. He nodded to Anna and Sharena, a gesture they knew well enough. A signal to give him and his summoner privacy. “Besides, after this you might want to take a break when we get back. I would understand if you wanted to go home for a bit. That might be good for you to do.” The corners of his mouth turned downwards and his tone became somber. “Might be good for everyone.”

“For everyone?” She squinted, and shielded her eyes, the bright sun breaking through the clouds that casted over it.

“Well yeah. These last few months have been quite draining, no?” Alfonse tilted his head in concern. He sighed, and lead her away from the cliff and towards the camp, taking care where he stepped, loose gray rock breaking through the coarse green grass. “And I mean, not just for you, but for everyone close to you. You just might want to consider stepping away for a bit. Giving people their space, that’s all.”

“Thanks.” Kiran forced herself to say, following slowly behind. Did he really want to send her home? “I’ll think about it.”

She hadn’t been back to her own world since she arrived in Askr. Her world wasn’t connected to this one the same way the other hero’s worlds were. She came through Vaskrheim. The gate there was different. Connected to her world or a version of a world like hers. The brave heroes came from there too, so it must have been connected to multiple worlds. Claude, Ike, Lucina, the very best versions of themselves had been summoned through Vaskrheim. Alfonse and the other Askran scholars never really did confirmed if she actually could travel back and forth. If she went back home now she wasn’t even sure how she would return to Askr. Would Breidablik summon her back here without question? Or would it choose someone to take her place? Someone more… brave.

Kiran quietly watched the prince walk away, he stopped to chat with a few other heroes as he moved through the camp. He was cool and confident, and heroes from all over looked up to him, even at his young age. He was smart and resourceful, there wasn’t a problem too large that Alfonse could not overcome, and he was loved by them all.

She wanted to be like him, but she wasn’t. She was stubborn and quick to anger, lazy and a screw-up. Kiran would never be like Alfonse, and she knew that. Breidablik chose her all those years ago as the summoner, she tried to remind herself. However, she couldn’t help but wonder if the scared weapon would have chosen her if given the opportunity today. Askr had changed her.

Maybe I should go back, she started to come around to the idea the prince had suggested. _If I do go and I can’t get back… then I will know I’m no longer meant to be in Askr, to be the Order’s summoner._

Kiran slowly made her way back to where Ranulf had built their small fire. She was neither sad or happy at the prospect, numb to the idea. She decided to keep her decision to herself, if anyone would protest to her going home it was her friend and companion. She followed the small winding bend in the stony dirt path through the trees, expecting to see the familiar sight of Ranulf by the fire, pouring coffee and making toast, but instead she came face to face with a woman. Her body was lean, and shrouded in darkness. Couching over the flames, staring into the fire. Vines slithered and tangled themselves around her body, the breeze rustled through the assortment of dried flowers, twigs and leaves that were attached precariously to her body. Wings of an insect fluttered behind her back. It was the first time Kiran had seen the álfr, but when she saw it she knew the woman was exactly that. Álfr, here and now.

Taking a step back and out of its sight, taking care not to disturbed the creature. Kiran slowly reached to unfastened the clasp on Breidablik’s holster, taking hold of it and pulling it out. Her eyes locked on to her enemy. She wasn’t going to let it get away this time. She tried to keep calm, to slow her breath. Be brave, she told herself, watching the creature, watching the fire.

Kiran’s heart began to beat faster, pounding in her chest, rising her weapons slowly. No more nightmares, and everything can go back to normal. Kiran felt the power inside her well up, a bubbling pool flooding her body. A tingling in her fingertips, and her lips curled into a smile. “Gotcha.” She whispered. The álfr looked up, startled. The creature appeared as scared as Kiran should have felt, when she let go a burst of energy out from Breidablik. The white hot light cut through the álfr in front of her, just barely hitting its mark, but doing enough damage to end the creature where it stood.

“Alfonse, they’re here!” She cried out, watching the álfr’s body slumped over, rolling into the fire in front of it. “Alfonse, the álfr are attacking the camp!”

The events of the camp had been moving in slow motion up until that point, then Kiran’s world felt like it was spinning faster then she could comprehend. There was no time for her to think and evaluate. Just time to react, and react she did. The screeching álfr that hid in the thick woods and brush began to attack her from all angles. Kiran stood her ground, slicing through each one, and disintegrating the foul monsters with the pure beams of light from Breidablik, keeping her promise to protect her heroes.

Kiran could hear Alfonse close by, calling out her name. She just had to hold out, keep the creatures at bay until the prince fought his way to help her. Another álfr flew towards her, and another. Screaming and wailing, pointed, tangled vines reaching out for her, ending the creature’s lives easily before they were able to get too close. It felt so good to unleash her frustration on them. Make them pay for all they had put her through this year. Alfonse will be so proud of her when he sees. She can use Breidablik. She can be brave. Can and will do the right things, just like he has always wanted. Maybe he won’t want to send her home after all.

“Kiran, Stop!” Alfonse cried from behind.

She felt him roughly grab her shoulder, spinning her around with such force her grip loosened on Breidablik, and she dropped her weapon. The last blast from the barrel vanished over the cliff and out into the sky. Kiran grasped and looked up at him in confusion. Why did he look so angry with her?

“I’m sorry Kiran, you left me no choice.” He whispered through his clenched teeth, his perfect hair casting shadows over his downturned eyes, hiding any pain he might have felt at that moment.

Alfonse gripped her shoulder tighter, slowly pushing Kiran away from him. The pain that followed rip through her body. Twisting her face, Kiran realized the cold steal of Fólkvangr was sliding out of her abdomen, where he had run her through.

“What’s… happening?” She croaked, dropping to her knees, she held her wound, blood soaking and seeping through her fingers. Her gaze followed the spatters and trails of blood that surrounded her. The álfr that had been attacking her were just a delusion, only an attack on her reality. Her nightmares coming true, she had massacre the heroes that camped around her. “No…” Kiran turned pale, dragging her cold body through the dirt. “What have I done?” The pain of her life draining from her was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart as she pulled herself towards the fire, the pain of broken glass of the jam jar and the hot coals Ranulf used to make breakfast. Her best friend’s body twisted and chard, a gaping cauterized hole she had created. “No. This can’t be real… I have to wake up.”

“You poor thing.” Alfonse’s boots scuffed the dirt beside her as he slowly followed.

“Why am I not waking-up?” She choked on her tears, the taste of blood growing stronger in the back of her throat and flooding her mouth. Kiran pushed her face in what was left of her friend. “Wake-up, wake-up.” She chanted, praying it was just another nightmare.

“I’ll make it quick, so you don’t suffer anymore.” Alfonse whispered, his brilliant white armor, darkened with his summoner’s blood.

She closed her eyes and the world slowed down to a crawl, each second that passed was drawn further out by her agony. She felt the cold steel point of Alfonse’s sword resting at the nape of her neck. “I just want to go home.” Kiran whimpered and time stopped completely. The ambient noise of life in the world around her replaced by a long tone that began to grow louder and louder as everything else fell away into the darkness.

Pain was replaced by the sickening feeling of falling, her body jolted forward, her legs and arms springing to life, and she gasped sitting up in bed. The alarm clock on her bedside table blaring, and the sound of stomping from her neighbor that lived in the apartment above, screaming for her to get-up and turn the awful alarm off!

She quickly reached her arm out from her blankets, her flannel pajamas twisting from under her sheets and comforter, fumbling with the alarm switch, finally sliding it over. Silence, save for the sound of traffic outside her window. Car driving by, people chatting as they walked down the busy sidewalk. She flopped back into her bed, panting heavily, slick with sweat. The soft pillows embracing, then slowly deflating around her body. She stared at the ceiling, the glass orb encased the lightbulb above her. The fan blades slowly spinning around and around, moving cool air across her hot skin. The familiar rough texture of the popcorn plaster that use to spark images from her imagination. “It…” She hesitated and sighed in relief. “It was just a dream.”

Laying there she tried to recall what had happened, bits and pieces of her dream, but only thoughts and feelings floated through her mind, disappearing. Being forgotten when her train of thought was interrupted by the chime of her phone from under her pillow. Groaning, she reached for the smooth glass and metal device, unplugging the cord and unlocking the screen with a slide of her finger.

“Shit.” She had overslept, it was mid-afternoon and her inbox was flooded with emails from her sister. Reminders and the itinerary they had for that day to attend the Harvest Festival…. No, wait. Why did she call it that? Not the Harvest Festival, The Halloween Fair. She starred at her phone, she didn’t feel tired or groggy anymore. Just a little confused, her dream fading, and reality coming into focus. The small digital screen reminding her who and where she was.

She was late to her sister’s meet-up now. Her sister and brother-in-law would have gone on without her, expecting her to catch-up with them later. She grimaced as she touched the screen, opening the last angry email she had received from her older sister. Chastising her for blowing off their plans to find Halloween costumes together before going to the fair. The message went on to read that her sister took the liberty to pick-out a costume, and deliver it to her door, leaving it in a box outside in the hallway.

Stretching hard, and letting out a loud moan, she sat-up. Hopping out of her bed and stepping on empty candy bar wrappers she had tossed on the floor while binge watching horror movies in bed the night before. She laughed at herself, that’s the last time she raids the Halloween stash after midnight. No wonder her dreams were so intense last night. She picked them up before leaving her bedroom, walking into the small open area of her one-bedroom apartment. White and gray hand-me-down furniture from her sister, contemporary and cold. She had brightened the space with her own eclectic use of knickknacks and accessories of all different styles and colours. Her small slice of paradise located in the inner city, her home.

She washed up, and attempted to pulled a brush through her tangled blonde curls as she grabbed the package from the front door, tossing it on the couch and opening the small note that had been taped to the top. A simple ‘FU’ from her sister encircled with a red heart, and she chuckled. Picking up her phone, and dialing her siblings number.

“Come on…. Pick-up.” Looking at the number to confirm it was correct. “Whatever. She’ll just have to call back.” She mumbled, sending a text message, and turning on her stereo, programing it to play a few of her favorite up-beat songs. She stretched, making her way over to the box on the couch to see what goodies her sister left her inside.

Lifting the cardboard lid, and singing along to the lyrics playing loudly behind her, she pushed back the neatly folded tissue paper that covered the items in the box. Inside she found the most interesting outfit. A coat, or robe? She wasn’t a hundred percent sure. Along with the coat a strange looking object laying to the side. Some sort of prop of a weapon, a firearm? The sight of it made her pause, the lyrics of the song continuing on, as an odd feeling washed over her. Both the coat and the prop were creamy white, with an elaborate gold designs running up and down their sides.

She frowned, what is this supposed to be? Pulling the coat out of the box and holding it up to her body she wandered to her bedroom full length mirror to take a look at it. “Very funny.” She laughed, her sister was getting back at her for missing their date this morning. Too bad she like the challenge, this frumpy coat won’t stop me, she thought. tossing the it on her bed she opened her closet to find something to ware under the odd coat she had been gifted, trying to put together a costume that made sense.

Tapping her foot, singing and swinging her head and hips, getting back into the groove of the music that blared from her living room. She finally settled on pairing a short navy dress with a thick brown belt. Simple and classic, she laughed, deciding to just lean into this attire and let the coat be the statement piece. She slipped on the dress over black nylons, throwing on a pair of wool socks and well-loved brown boots.

Pulling on the coat, she wrapped it around her body, looking at herself in the mirror. The coat fit like a glove, like it was meant for her. She picked up the strange prop that had come with it. Pointing the weapon at the image of herself in the mirror and striking a pose. A strange feeling of déjà vu washed over her, starring at her refection. Memories of a distant lands, covered in thick fog, swam through her mind. Followed by a sinking feeling something wasn’t quite right.

She jumped, when her phone began ringing, calling out to her, waking her from her daydream. She ran to the other room to answer, tossing the odd prop back in the gift box and picking up her phone.

“Hello?” Silence, dead air on the other end. She looked at the screen, puzzled about what was happening. What would be interfering with the reception, she wondered sliding the phone into the pocket of the coat. Her finger brushed against something cold and hard, and she pulled out a small painted pet rock with a goofy grin and a set of odd coloured eyes. She chuckled, you never know what you’ll find in second hand clothing.

Smiling, she placed the treasure she had found down on the centre of her coffee table, something about the little rock made her feel better when she looked at it. She grabbed the tissue paper, stuffing it with the weird prop weapon that gave her the creeps back in the box, and closing the lid, hiding it under her couch to be forgotten until the next time she decided to clean the dust bunnies under there.

Noticing the time, she loudly swore, quickly snatched her keys and hurried out the door, bounding down the stairs of her apartment building. She shoved the heavy security door with her shoulder, rushing out the door, and down to the sidewalk, enjoying the cool fall weather. The slender trees the dotted the way were starting to change colour, greens and yellows to oranges and reds. Carved pumpkins, speckled the stoops of buildings she walked by them. She stared at the tall buildings, blocking out the light around her, old dark brick, crumbling with age, and rusty iron balconies, other modern glass and iron, shiny and sleek, glowing in the sun. The same ones she had looked at every day on her way to work, but for some reason this felt like it was the first time she had seen them in ages.

Luckily the park’s fairgrounds were only a few blocks away, she could smell the familiar aromas of her favorite midway snacks, and she could hear the distant bass from the carnival rides over the loud noise of the cars driving by. She looked around as she walked, groups of people dressed-up as monsters and heroes, all around her. Friends, families, laughing and cheering. Scaring each other, taking over the sidewalk, all heading in the same direction. All heading down to the Harvest Festival…. She stopped, and shook her head; why did she keep doing that? She continued to walk slowly, was it something she had read recently?

“Kiran?!” A voice above the cheers of the excited crowds called out.

She quickly glanced over, as most people would, looking across the street to see what the commotion was. A man, frazzled, and walking quickly. His careless dark hair blowing in the breeze. The gold and black armour reflected the low light that shined through the tall buildings, the glinting caught her eye.

“Kiran!” He cried out again in her direction. She looked at the people around her, confused, no one else seemed to respond or even notice this man. When she turned back, he had begun walking across the street, a lull in on-coming traffic had falsely made it appear safe to cross. Her heart stopped when she realized the man was not waiting for the cars to pass before proceeding to walk into the next lane, quickly approaching her. “Oh thank the goddess I found you…” he began to say.

Tires screeched out, the horn blaring even louder as the car came speeding towards him, unable to stop, while he stood there in shock, a shiny deer in the headlights.

“Watch out!” She cried, grabbing hold of the golden costume the man was wearing, yanking him hard off the street. The car narrowly missed, the heavy machine squealed by, leaving dark tracks in its wake. The driver yelled profanities out the window before speeding off, filling the air with exhaust.

Tripping on the curb, the stranger stumbled over his feet, falling backwards onto the sidewalk. He took ahold of her coat as he fell, pulling her down with him. She heard the sickening sound of his head hitting the cement, and she scrambling off him, kneeling beside his body.

“Are you okay?!” She cried, reaching to check his head. Her hands shaking, she pushed her fingers through his thick hair, holding her breath as she removed her hand. Sighing in relief. No blood. The man groaned, wincing while his eyes rolled back and then forward again. “How many fingers am I holding up?” she asked, mimicking what they do in the movies and holding up two shaking fingers, panicking. “Should I call 911?”

“W-what was that… thing?!” The man cried out, rubbing his head and sitting up. His eyes darted wildly, observing his surroundings.

How can he not know what a car is? She asked herself, pressing her lips together and slowly nodding. “Yeah. I should call 911…” She pulled her phone from her pocket. An old piece of parchment was stuck to it. She quickly glanced at it, something written about southern wild flowers, she scrunched it up in her hand, stuffing it back in the coat pocket, and standing up. “What’s your name?”

“What? Oh… You don’t remember…” He mumbled quietly, a confused expression across his face. “They mentioned that might happen.”

“I’m sorry?” She asked, only half paying attention and looking at her phone, confused about why the call was unable to connect.

“It’s Claude.” He slowly stood got to his feet, running his hand through his dark hair and looking suspiciously around.

“Damn it! Still nothing!” She stomped her boot in frustration. “What’s wrong with this thing today? Is the system overwhelmed or something?”

“Kiran!” Claude moved towards her, taking hold of her arm. “I have to talk to you – “

The sound of her phone ringing caused her to pull away from him, dismissing his request. “Hold on!” She answered the call quickly, turning her back. “Hello? Hello?” She looked at the screen, nothing was there now. Whoever it was the call was disconnected before she could get a response. Crossing her arms, she blew her cheeks out, tipping her foot. She looked at Claude trying to decide what to do with him. “Can you walk? I’m meeting someone at the fair, but I can’t get a hold of them to let them know I’m taking care of you.” She shrugged, as she approached Claude. “I don’t want to just leave you here. I mean what if you have a concussion?” Her eyes grew wide. “You could die.”

“Yes, I can walk.” Claude nodded and forced a nervous smile. “I’m fine, sorry, I was just confused for a moment. I’m new to the area. I didn’t realize the danger I was in.”

“Tell me about it! You had me pretty scared!” She laughed and held out her hand to introduce herself. “My name’s Joyce. I was planning on meeting my sister at the Harvest…” She stopped, sliding her phone back into the pocket of her heavy coat. “I mean the Halloween Fair, hence my amazing wizard outfit.” Joyce sarcastically curtseyed, showing off her odd costume. “I’m guessing by the way you’re dressed that’s where you’re heading too? How about you tag along with us, at least until we know you’re okay? Better safe than sorry, right?”

“J-Joyce?” Claude’s voice waivered, as he stared at the young woman he thought he knew standing in front of him.

“Yeah! Come on Claude! I’m starving!” Joyce laughed, sliding her arm around his. “We can get some panzerolis and popcorn, play a few carnival games. Maybe even check-out the haunted house! Oh, and you can explain to me what your dressed-up as, because I really haven’t a clue what you’re supposed to be! Some sort of king?”


	9. Tricks and Treats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joyce and Claude attended the Halloween Fair. A haunted castle stirs feelings and memories that Joyce doesn't grasp and is too afraid to try and understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Oct. 26, 2020. "The Nightmare may be over, but the Order finds the castle overrun by monsters on the Night of Fright!"

_“WE HAVE A WINNER!”_ The stout carnival worker shouted at the top of his lungs. Matted greasy gray hair, weathered skin that looked as tough and stiff as his old stained shirt. The carny plucked a green teddy bear from the assortment of inanimate creatures hanging on the wall, handing it to Claude, muttering under his breath. “Again…”

With a devilish smirk, Claude happily gave the bear to a young girl, who beamed with joy. Her father patted Claude on his back, thanking him, and ushering away his daughter. Making room for the next father to step forward, handing Claude the cost of the game so he may win his son a toy from the booth.

The carnival worker begrudgingly snatched the money he was offered from Claude, standing back and ringing his loud alarm, signaling the start of a new game. Multi-coloured targets began appearing on the far back wall. Mechanical arms swinging and dropping them down from behind a striped curtain. Each coloured bull's-eye representing a prize worthy of the target’s difficulty and position.

Claude fearlessly pulled back the string to the bow, taking aim at his chosen target and letting the brightly feathered arrow fly in one easy motion. One down, two more to go. He quickly reached for another, picking up his second arrow and flawlessly hitting his next target.

“Wow, you’re a natural!” Joyce looked on, watching in amazement. She had suggested a few carnival games, but once Claude spied the archery booth he insisted on playing.

“Nah.” He drew the string back for his third shot, letting loose the arrow which hit its intended target. Winning his tenth or eleventh toy of the night. Joyce had lost count. Once a small crowd noticed Claude’s skill, parents lined up asking him to win their children prizes, which her new found friend was happy to oblige. “I’ve just had a lot of practice.” He laughed, handing a stuffed puppy to the happy boy.

“Look pal, you’re killing me.” The carny leant over his counter, pulling off a small teddy bear from the wall of prizes. “How about I just give your girl this one free, and ya give my booth a break?”

Claude chuckled, pushing his dark locks from around his face. “Make it the big one?” he pointed towards the grand prize sitting on top of an impossible target. “The crowned dragon with the cloak.”

“You’re crazy!” The carnival worker cried out, and reeled back. “I can’t just do that…”

Claude pulled back his bow one last time, taking aim with his arrow at the target underneath the dragon and effortlessly hitting it.

“Take it! Take it!” The carny grabbed the blue and gold dragon with his long pole, unhooking it from its grand place and swinging it towards Claude. Joyce laughed, and she joined Claude when he turned his back to the games booth. “Just don’t come back!” He called out, cupping his hand around his mouth, making sure they would hear him from over the loud music of the midway entertainment.

The Halloween Fair was packed with happy fairgoers, dressed in all assortments of costumes. Ghost and ghouls partnered with royalty and heroes of all ages. They ran around the narrow midway, talking and laughing, eating all sorts of wonderful Halloween treats, screaming and cheering, dizzy and silly from the thrilling carnival rides. The electric lights of all different colours, hung exposed above and attached to the rides surrounding them. The illuminated tones of brightly coloured bulbs reflected off the plethora of patchwork pattern tents, painting the area in reds, oranges, blue and greens.

“Are you going to give him a name?” Joyce laughed, roughly petting the large stuffed dragon’s head in Claude’s arms, walking beside her black and gold costumed knight. Her white and gold wizard coat billowing behind her in the fall breeze.

“How about you do the honours Kir…” He wavered, recovering from his wrong words. “Joyce.”

“Okay, Let’s see.” She stopped to inspect the toy, folding her arm and tapping her chin with her finger. “He seems to be dress like a knight, or I don’t know, a little prince? What about Aaal.. Alf…” Joyce drew out her syllables trying to find the right words, the right name for the darling prince. “Alfrid! Yup! That’s it! Prince Alfrid the Great!” Joyce declared happily, grabbing its tiny wings and flapping them.

“Alfrid it is!” Claude laughed, his gaze quickly darted over her shoulder, his joyous grin faltering as he became uneasy, only briefly before returning his attention to Joyce, forcing a smile before she could notice, and leading her back down the midway. “So we have eaten and played games. What else is there to do?”

“How about the Ferris Wheel?” Joyce pointed towards the large round ride looming over the fair, the coloured blubs along the steel frame flaring up brightly to the beat of the music.

“Ferris Wheel?” he nervously looked up at the contraption as it spun around, lighting up at all different intervals, like a shining uncontrolled firework in the night.

Before he could protest Joyce pulled him along, giving a few paper stubs to the ride attendant. Claude reluctantly followed her lead up the silver metal slope, each step clanging to the beat of his heart. Swallowing his pride, he joined her the open-air car, sliding Prince Alfird between them, as the attendant lowered the safety bar in front of their laps and the hydraulic ramp lowered away. The heavy steel car jolted forward, creaking, rocking them back and forth before swiftly ascending upward.

“This is my favorite part!” Joyce called out over the rush of cool air that move around them. “You can see the whole city from here.” She leaned over, the bright lights in the distance of the towering buildings and traffic lights, glowing in the evening dusky sky.

“Please don’t rock it.” Claude pressed, tightening his grip on the lap bar in front of them, his knuckles turning white.

“What, are you afraid of heights?” Joyce pushed the flyways from her face, laughing, the car descending quickly backwards, the ground rushing towards them.

“No.” Claude hesitated, closing his eyes, as the machine swiped by the surface of the earth, the joints clanging together as it moved, hauling them up toward the sky again. “I’m actually quite use to being in the air, but I just don’t trust this thing to keep me off the ground!”

Joyce laughed, the car swinging, coming slowly to a stop at the top of the wheel. Suspended above it all, above the lights, above the noise, the carnival below small and far away. “Don’t look down. Look up. Or you’re going to miss it!”

“Maybe if it was made of something sturdy like timber…” Claude mumbled, he inched his eyes open, and Joyce reached over grasping his chin between her fingers, directing his view towards the cityscape. “Wow.” He breathlessly whispered, staring across the park and at the twinkling lights that lay in front of him. “I have never seen anything like…” He paused in awe, shaking his head. “I don’t have the words for it.”

“Still nothing! Even way up here!” Joyce groaned, holding her phone up to the sky. The bucket reeled back moving towards the ground again in intervals, pausing every few cars to let riders off and on. “I think I might have to give-up on getting a hold of my sister. Call her when I get home. What about you? You mentioned you were also meeting someone. Did you contact them?”

“Oh, yeah. Yup!” Claude quickly answered, averting his eyes. “I sure did that thing!”

“And?”

“Oh! Well they couldn’t make it!” He added with a shrug, the car swinging wildly, coming to a stop. The attendant lifted the lap bar, and Claude jumped to his feet, making a hasty exit, back to solid ground. “Thank the goddess.” He sighed under his breath, making his way back to the busy midway, his sash and cape fluttering behind him.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Joyce caught up to him, hugging the stuffed dragon in her arms. “It can’t be easy to go visit a new place and be on your own.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not my first time.” Claude gently reassured her, his expression told a story she felt familiar with, and he smiled taking hold of the dragon in her arms. “Besides, I don’t think the night turned out too bad after all.” A carefree smile forming at the corner of his lips, his fingers brushed against hers, gripping the soft plush toy. “I’m having a really good time, thanks to you!” He exclaimed, the electricity fizzling out when he stole a glance behind Joyce, the same uneasy look returning to his face for only a short moment.

Claude pulled the toy dragon from her arms, and continued down the midway, he cleared his throat, quickly continuing the conversation to avoid any curiosity that might have been aroused. “What makes you say I’m new here?”

“The way you look at just ordinary everyday objects. Especially the lights.” She nodded to the bright exposed light bulbs that dotted the entire fair and hung above their heads. “You can’t stop staring at them. Mesmerized by them even.”

“They remind me of a place I haven’t thought about in a while.” His words drifted off, followed by his eyes while he gazed up at the lights.

“Where are you from anyways?”

“Somewhere far, far away. You wouldn’t have heard of it. We don’t have anything like what you have here. This place is very strange and interesting to me.” Claude hesitated, chuckling at himself. “But a bit overwhelming too, to tell you the truth.”

“Really? I guess I take everything we have for granted!” She tucked a loose blonde wave behind her ear, Joyce found it hard to believe that there was anywhere in the world that had not been exposed to their everyday technology, but his reactions seemed so genuine. She was curious to know more. “What brought you here in the first place? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Well you could say I was summoned here!” Claude smirked, pausing to gage her response from the corner of his eye before he continued. “But I was sent here to help a friend. They’re a bit lost right now, in need of guidance. They just need help remembering who they are and where they need to be.”

“Karan or something, right? You mentioned their name earlier when you hit your head. They are your girlfriend, or boyfriend maybe?” Joyce couldn’t help but pry. She was enjoying herself that night, and wanted to know what the boundaries were. She slyly shrugged, avoiding eye contact, trying to pass off her inquiry as a joke. “Maybe a fiancée that ran away after getting cold feet?” She teased, biting her lip, waiting for the right answer.

“No. Nothing like that.” He chuckled, noticing the flush in Joyce’s cheeks, and the up turned corners of her lips. “Just a friend who needs a wake-up call.”

“What’s stopping you? Just tell them what they need to hear.” She grabbed an invisible force in front of her, moving her arms vigorously back and forth, clenching her teeth. “Shake some sense into them, Wake them up!”

“I wish it was that simple!” Claude laughed, and he adjusted the stuffed dragon, carrying it under his one arm. His mood changed, turning somber as they walked. “I need to be careful, I can’t push them or things might get messy.” It was clear that he was deeply concerned for his friend. Joyce felt foolish for making light of the situation. Claude sighed, looking straight ahead as they continued down the midway. The pace in his steps slowing. “I don’t really understand it all myself, but I’m worried if I screw this up, I’m not sure if I will never find them again.”

Joyce shivered and pulled her big coat around her small frame, crossing her arms to secure it. The last traces of sunlight had vanished, leaving only the electric lights of the carnival which did not keep the chill of the night away. “They must be pretty special to have someone who would come this far to help them out. Most people would rather call, or send an email these days.”

“They are special.” Claude stopped, he lightly touched her arm so she would too. His brows were stitched together with worry as he looked down at her. “I just wish they knew that. They have a whole world that cares about them. Fighting and willing to lay down their lives for them. They just have to remember that.”

An uneasy seed in the pit of Joyce’s stomach sprang to life. His words sprouting more questions than answers. Who was he? And who was his friend? Someone people would die for? Claude’s eye stirred emotions within her, she had thought they were romantic in nature, but now, as she looked in his sad eyes, she wasn’t so sure. Joyce averted her gaze, instinctively searching for a way out, to push aside and ignore what she was starting to feel.

“Oh look!” She pointed across the midway, pulling away from Claude. “There’s the Haunted Castle! This one’s new! I have haven’t had a chance to go in it.” Joyce stood in front of the large plywood façade of the fun house. A tall castle, spires reaching into the night’s sky, its blue and gold banners, proudly displayed their golden knotted crest. Joyce felt like she had seen that symbol somewhere before. A book perhaps? She swallowed hard, looking into the pitch black entrance. Costumed children laughing and racing each other to get inside, disappearing, engulfed in the darkness as they ran into the castle. “It also looks pretty scary, so it should be fun. Let’s go!” Joyce pushed away any uncertainty or fears that she might have felt, and treaded into the darkness before Claude could stop her.

“Joyce?!” His eyes widened, “Wait!” Claude called out behind her, but it was too late.

She felt her way around in the pitch black room, Joyce could hear the children, giggling and running by her. They just wanted to play. _How were they so confident in their movements? I can’t see a thing_ , she thought, her hands stretched out in front of her. The fear she had felt before running into the castle was beginning to creep back, climbing up her throat, and she had to force herself to take the next step forward in the dark. Joyce felt her bravery begin to wavier, she no longer heard the laughter of children, but a strange fluttering sounds, the sounds of a large insect buzzing by, and dried leaves caught in a whirlwind. “Where… where is everyone?” She tried to keep a level head. “Hello?” She called out, spying a dim flickering light off in the distance, and sound of the soft plastic clicking. She sighed in relief, and quickly made her way over to the light.

Alone, Joyce entered a long hallway, the light coming from projectors shining blurred images on the walls. Small mechanical cut-outs moved along the wall, their clunky motions trying to tell a story of some unknown world, and some unknown event. She walked slowly down the hallway, looking at the scenes at the walls, trying to figure out what they meant. Stone archways, with shimmering mirror like surfaces, stood towering over groups of soldiers and knights, who disappeared, and reappeared through the magical gates. This must be from a book I have read before, Joyce told herself, it all seemed so familiar. She looked ahead at the entrance to the next room, which glowed red and had one of the odd stone gates surrounding the doorway. Scripture carved in the plaster stone. Her heart skipped a beat, she could understand the writing on the archway. ‘ _Muspell’_ , it read, but how was that even possible? She had never studied a second language before.

A blast of hot air rushed over her body from the sides of the doorway as she crossed the threshold, entering a hellish fiery landscape. Images of black stone volcanos spewing red hot lava into the air, dragons chasing dragons, flying overhead. Joyce jumped back when bursts of fire raged between the fake boulders she had to walk by. The heat made her flinch, and turn away to shield her eyes. She heard the shouts of fighting in the distance, the clang of weapons as armies clashed and warriors were set aflame. She quickly tried to make her way to the next room. This can’t be safe she thought, looking up at the scrip on the next archway. ‘ _Hel_.”

Joyce stepped forward expecting more fire, more brimstone, in a room title after the fictional place it had been name for. To her surprise it was cold and damp, viperish mist clinging to the ground, swirling around her boots. Dead skeleton trees that reach out to her as she passed them, creaking and moaning to touch life again. Screams of horror, and pain ripped through the eerie quietness of this room, random cries of help from unseen people, begging to be saved, to be restored, wailing in the darkness and tapering off in to silence. She dodged the branches, and quickened her pace to the door way. A witch cloaked in a tattered black dress dropped from the ceiling, swinging her scythe across the hall, nearly hitting Joyce. The dummy’s painted stripped face, frozen in a cruel smile, and the sound of manic laughing echoed throughout the room. “What’s going on?” She shoved the puppet to the side, running into the next room to escape the dreadful screams and images she had been exposed to.

Joyce didn’t see what the title of this room was, it was dark, save for small glowing lights, the bounced and floated. Purple and blue orbs, like drifting illuminated spores. The floor felt soft and squishy, damp soil. The smell of decaying plants and mold reached her nose. “How do I get out of here?” She coughed, feeling herself panicking, there was no exit to this room, not one that she was able to see. Joyce froze when she heard a huff and a snort of a large beast. The small hairs raising on the back of her neck. She turned to see a large goat, standing high on the cliff side, staring down at her with rectangular pupils. Its coat was long and its horns twisting and scraping the sky, tearing a hole in the ceiling, dust and plaster raining down as it cocks its head. The animal pawed the rock with cloven hooves. _“You’ll never see any of them again.”_ It snorted, it’s breath blowing out wide nostrils and rising around its head.

Joyce turned to run, but where? She was too scared to care, she just wanted to leave this place. Be back home, on her cozy couch, be safe and warm, back in her own little world, far, far away from this one. She took her first step, her foot snagging on something hard, with a little give. A root. It burst from the ground at her feet, twisting up her legs, and toppling her over, holding her steadfast to the earth. She gasped and looked around, the sounds of leaves and fluttering wings returning, surrounding her in the shadows. The beast’s hooves knocked against the stone as it descended from its rocky overlook. Joyce cried out in pain, the vines constricting tighter around her legs, thorns ripping at her stockings and skirt. She rolled over, digging her hand in the cold soil trying to pull herself away. “ _No, no, no_!” She muttered, trying to free herself, sinking in deeper. “I have to wake up!” She closed her eyes tightly, hot tears running down her cheeks. “This isn’t real!”

“There you are!” Claude pulled Joyce to her feet, wrapping his cape around her and holding her tight to his side, so tight she could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest. The roots that had clung to her, tearing at her clothes were gone. Everything seemed like a perfectly normal haunted house now. Plywood standees and plaster rocks. Props and dummies with rubber masks and thrift clothing. Children laughing as if nothing had happened, running into the darkness. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Don’t look back.” He calmly whispered, giving her the stuffed dragon to carry, leading her back through the halls.

Joyce clung harder as they revisited the rooms, traveling backwards through the fun house. Each one reminding her of the sights that frightened her more than anything had frightened her before, and she didn’t understand why she felt that way. In fact, with every room they moved past the memory of them faded. She couldn’t remember what scared her so much by the time they reached the opening of the fun house. Joyce stepped over the threshold on the castle and the noise of the carnival came raging back to her senses, loud and clear. Like they had just resurfaced from being underwater. She took a moment to inhale the cold fall air, catching her breath.

“I’m sorry, that was much scarier than I thought it would be.” Joyce shook her head, embarrassed, trying to get over the uneasy feeling the fun house gave her. She let go of Claude, laughing nervously, squeezing Alfrid. “I guess I’m not as brave as I thought.”

“You’re still shaking.” He brushed his hands up and down her shoulders, trying to rub some heat back in to her body with friction.

“It’s just getting a bit cold out here.” Joyce shivered again, staring at the golden crest on the banner hanging from the strange castle. She pulled the coat around her again. “There’s not much else to do at the fair. I was planning on getting some hot cider and watching a scary movie after. It’s kind of my Halloween tradition. I don’t live too far away if you wanted to join me?” Joyce bit her lip, in anticipation of his answer. It was a bold move, even for her, to invite him back, someone she barely knew. But she didn’t want the night to end, to leave Claude, and she didn’t want to stay at the Halloween fair any longer.

“I’d like that.” Claude nodded in agreement, there was relief in the tone of his voice and she was relieved to hear it. “You lead, I’ll follow!”

* * *

Joyce smiled to herself, resting her head in the palm of her hand, elbow propped up on the back of her couch. She watched Claude who was paying her no mind, hugging the stuffed dragon, Alfrid, and deeply engrossed in the events of the slasher flick she had popped on. She pulled her stockinged feet up under her as she watched him, she was still wearing the wizard robes to keep warm, and he in his knightly costume. She touched the soft fabric of his cape he had thrown oven the back of the couch, it looked so well-made, she thought, not something you would find hanging in the plastic bag on the wall of a department store.

“Don’t go upstairs!” Claude cried out, watching the young heroine run from the killer in the movie. “Why is she going _that_ way?! She’s going to get herself killed!”

“She won’t be killed. She’s the main character after all.” Joyce laughed at him, twirling a blonde curl around her finger. “They always live in the end.” She tried to reassured him.

“She’s hiding in the closet?!” He brought the palm of his hand up to cover his face, shaking his head slowly for a moment. He dropped his arm away, looking over to her curled up on the couch with his concerned eyes. “All logic points to her being brutally murdered if she takes her chances in there.”

“She’ll be fine. Besides, she’s hot. They won’t kill her off.” She could not take her eyes off him. He had proven to be the real entertainment of the night. Joyce would have given anything in the world for him to reach over and scoop her up in his arms in that moment, but he turned back to the television just in time to see the starlet stab the crazed killer in the eye with a coat hanger and run away, living to see another day.

“Oh come on?!” He cried, stretching his arm towards the television. “Now that’s just ridiculous… He should have had her. It was a done deal!”

“Told ya.” Joyce smirked proudly.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve watch this movie every Halloween.” She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “The ending doesn’t change.”

“Like a book?”

“Yeah, like a book.” She repeated, and placed her feet on the floor, reaching over and picking up the remote. “You really don’t have movies where you’re from?”

“I wish we did!” He laughed and sat back on the couch. “Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the theater, but having this level of entertainment without having to deal with the crowds.” Claude paused, staring at the television as the credits rolled. “It’s incredible.”

“Well I’m glad I’m able to impress you with all my magic!” Joyce stood up holding out her wizard coat and sarcastically waving her hand in front of her face, conjuring some unseen force. “I would suggest watching another one, but I’m worried that you’ll end up squeezing that dragon so hard it’s head is going to pop off!”

“Hey, Alfrid and I were just worried about the welfare of that poor woman.” Claude laughed, placing the dragon in the middle of the couch, much of the stuffing had moved from the body to the head, bulging out its eyes.

“Sure you were.” Joyce tease, walking to the small kitchen, gesturing towards the old stereo sitting on a desk near the window as she passed by. “How about you put on some music, and I’ll get us something a bit harder drink.”

“Yeah, okay.” Claude hesitated, staring at the device. Not wanting to back down from a challenge. “I can figure out how to do that.”

“If you’re not sure just hit all the buttons! That’s what I do!” She called out, popping metal caps off of brown glass bottles. “You won’t break it. Probably…” She smirked to herself, curious about how he would handle the situation, if he could figure it out. He seemed like a smart guy after all, just unaware of their modern advances. To her surprise she heard the crackle of static, followed by the voice of an announcer, reciting a list of their favorite festive songs.

“The radio?” She handed him one of the two bottles, and sat on the window sill, the cool glass pressed against her back. “Interesting choice.”

“Is it?” Claude took a swig from the bottle, wincing as he swallowed. “It’s the first thing that came up after I pushed a few things... I can try again?”

“No, leave it! I like it.” She stopped him, and looked out into the night over her shoulder. Sky was clear, and the stars shined brightly above. A sadness came over her, she longed to hear water and crickets. She turned her attention back towards Claude who looked content with just watching her. “There’s something comforting to know that somewhere out there in the darkness that there’s another person reaching out over those airwaves. Sharing themselves and connecting with you even if you’re just a stranger to them. It’s nice to know you’re not alone. Even if you are alone, even if the room is empty. The radio just a nice reminder that there’s more out there than what’s in front of you.” Joyce bit her lip, scrunching up her noise and chuckled. “Sorry, that probably sounded really silly to you.”

“No. I’m not familiar with these things, but I do want to learn more.” Claude sat halfway on the desk, one foot planted on the floor. His eyes widened as he explained. “I want to learn more about this city, more about how you live.” He met her gaze, and her heart fluttered. “More about who you are.”

Joyce was flustered, and she felt her cheeks reddening. A familiar melody coming from the radio snapped her back from her mind floating away. She recognized the soft and slow tones that began to drift from the speakers. “Oh, I love this song! I feel like I haven’t heard it in ages!” She leaned over, reaching for the knob that controlled the volume, turning it up a few notches. “It’s moments like this that make me wish I knew how to dance better.”

“Now that’s something I do know how to do!” Claude’s eyes brighten, and he placed his bottle on the desk, standing up and reaching out his arms, he gestured her to join him. “Come here.”

“What, really?” Joyce shook her head and laughed, the thought of her doing anything like that was comical to her. She had two left feet they would say. Her laughter trailed off when Claude continued to beckon her over to him. “You’re not serious?”

“Yeah, I am! Just trust me!” He laughed, stretching his fingers out. “Take me hand.”

Joyce placed her bottle on the window sill, nervously standing up and awkwardly pulling at her skirt that rode up her thighs. Her chest tightened as she approached Claude, she could feel her cheeks grow hotter as she apprehensively placed her hand in his. He just chuckled and took charge of the moment, guiding her arm around his and anchoring his hand to her waist, bringing her body closer to his. The melody was slow and the lyrics were haunting, a song written for a dreamer who found themselves in a crowded house. As he took his first step she gracefully followed, effortlessly able to match his methodical movements without missing a beat.

“Hey now, It’s almost as if you already knew how to dance.” Claude smirked like he knew a secret, an inside joke that she wanted to be a part of.

“This is so weird. You, this, tonight…” She quietly said to herself, everything was starting to feel like a fantasy, something you would only read about in a thick book. Part of her was waiting for the bubble to burst, to wake-up in her bed, staring at her ceiling fan, listening to a screaming alarm clock. She cringed when she realized what she had just said out loud. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like you’re weird! Did I just ruin the moment?”

“No, you didn’t ruin anything.” He pulled her closer still, drawing her into his eyes.

“You’re just so… different from anyone I have ever known Claude.” A smile tried to form at the corners of her lips, as her mind struggled to accept this as reality. “But in a good way! I mean, there’s just something about you, and I can’t put my finger on it…”

“It’s okay. Take your time.” He continued to slowly rock her, leading her in a small circle to the beat of the music.

“I don’t know.” Joyce sighed, giving up on trying to figure out what she felt. It was as pointless as trying to remember a dream you had the night before. There was always a simpler explanation. “Maybe it’s just been so long since I have been close to anyone. It’s scary for me.”

She found it hard to look away, something stirred within her, deep inside, further then the pit in her stomach, and past her memories. Something locked away she had no key to. Her eyes became heavy and it felt like she was in a dream, her mind becoming still. “There you are. Joyce.” Claude whispered, staring deep into her eyes. He reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You know I have no intention of hurting you or letting anything else hurt you. I want to keep you safe. Keep you happy.” Claude tried to smile, his eyes quickly darting to something behind her and he became uneasy again.

“What do you keep looking at?” Joyce moved to turn her head, to see what it was, but Claude gripped her chin between his fingers, raising her face to his and pushing his lips onto hers, denying her the chance to see what he saw, and melting any curiosity she might have had away. She breathlessly let her body collapse into his arms, and she fully accepted him, groaning when he pulled away, resting his forehead on hers.

“Joyce… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He tightly closed his eyes, ashamed of his actions, for being so forward.

“No, it’s okay,” Joyce laughed, she couldn’t, and did not want to hide, her excitement. “I was hoping you would, like, all night!” She ran her fingers up on to his shoulders, raising her lips to his with a coy smile. “Please, don’t stop now, Claude.”

* * *

Joyce had woken up early that morning, still giddy from her night with Claude. She still could not believe this was real, when she looked over and saw him sleeping soundly, one arm crooked over his face, covering his eyes. He was like prince charming and her… well she wasn’t sure what she was. Someone that doesn’t meet prince charming. She giggled to herself, pulling on a colorful flannel shirt, quietly creeping out of bed, smiling ear to ear. She decided she wanted do something nice for him. Sometime fun for him to wake up to.

It had been a long time since she had let anyone into her private life. Her last relationship was a disaster, and ended badly, turning her off dating completely. Joyce pulled a gift box out of her junk closet. A tailored pants and sweater set. A gift for her ex-fiancé that he never received. Broken-up during the holidays. She always thought she could change him. She knew now she couldn’t. He would have hated this outfit anyways, might as well give it away, she thought placing it outside the bathroom door and walking to the kitchen.

Joyce pulled out a box of frozen waffles, and what she needed to make coffee. She quickly popped a few frozen slabs in the toaster, and started to brew a pot. Was she the best cook? No, but she knew enough to get by! She wandered over, starting to clean up the bottles and clothes that had been thrown around the sitting the night before. Joyce laughed when she picked up the wizard coat, digging her hand in the deep pocket to check her phone, glad she didn’t have to wear the silly thing anymore.

“What’s this?” She pulled out an old iron key, with the inscription ‘ _1606 Fljót St_.’ along the side. “It’s the coat that keeps on giving!” She mused, smirking, placing the key with her phone on the counter. Not giving it a second thought. The waffles were done and she had a cute guy to feed. She started to fix up a plate of waffles and a cup a coffee for her guest. Joyce poured a generous amount of syrup on the hot fluffy slabs, hoping that he would like it. She was excited at the prospect of seeing someone again, to maybe even having a relationship. Someone to make her dull, monotonous life fun again! Her mind started to swirl with different scenarios, and date night ideas. They could go out to restaurants, and galleries, go to the market or just stay home on the couch! She really didn’t want to screw things up.

Joyce picked up the plate and cup and tiptoed into the bedroom, taking care not to make any noise, or shake the bed too much as she shuffled on to it. The wrinkled sheets and blankets pushed to the far end of the bed. She blushed as she looked at Claude sleeping, how did I get this lucky?! She thought, giggling quietly, expecting him to wake-up and see the gifts she had brought him, but he continued to lay there motionless, only the rise and fall of his chest moving slowly.

She decided to clear her throat, shuffling up a bit closer on her knees, trying to keep the plate level and the coffee from spilling over. Nothing. Joyce pursed her lips, and used her weight to bounce gently, to rock the bed, yet still, nothing, he didn’t even stir. Frustrated, and her arms growing tired, Joyce leaned over and whispered his name loudly. “Claude?!”

“Kiran!” Claude cried out, gasping as he bolted up in bed, his arms flailing and knocking the plate of waffles out of Joyce’s hand, spilling the cup of coffee all over the bed. “You have to wake-up!”

“Oh shit!” Joyce hissed through clenched teeth, ignoring him and more concerned about hot coffee staining her sheets. Claude sat there looking at the waffles in his lap, dazed, and wordless, syrup running down his bare chest. “Oh no, oh no!” She sprang to life, hopping out of the bed and running to get a cloth to clean the mess up. “Here let me get you a towel!”

Joyce quickly returned to the bedroom, she moved to his side of the bed, handing an astonished Claude a soft towel she had dampened with hot water. “I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed.” She picked up the plate and started to clean up the ruined breakfast goods. “Well I thought I would try at least…”

Claude burst out laughing to her surprise, she stopped and looked at him. “No it’s fine!” He wore a giant grin.

“What? You’re covered in syrup!” Joyce could feel her face grow hot and red, she wanted nothing more than to run away. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Hey, it’s better than being forced to sneak out a window. Half naked.” Claude chuckled, trying to rubbed the sticky syrup off of his skin. “I consider this an improvement compared to some other mornings I have had.”

“Really? What kind of awful person would do such a thing?” Joyce sat on the edge of the bed beside him, looking down at her ruined surprise sitting on the plate. “I would never dream of doing that to someone! And especially not you!”

He laughed again, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. “Yeah, I think you’re far too sweet to do anything like that!” Claude nuzzled her nose with his own, pressing his lips on hers, syrup caught between them, making their kiss unbelievably sweeter. “What are we going to do about breakfast now?”

“Well, I was thinking I could take you around the city. Like your own personal tour guide!” Joyce suggested, relieved he wasn’t upset about what happened. So wanted this to go well. She wanted to spend the day with him. “We could stop by a diner, grab something to eat. Then after there’s a new exhibit I have been meaning to check out at the museum.” She hesitated, maybe she was going too fast… “Does that sound like something you would like to do?”

“Very much so.” Claude nodded, and continued to hold her in his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I would like it if you showed me around.”

“I mean, you don’t have to, if there’s somewhere you have to be… I would understand.”

“I’m exactly where I want to be, Joyce.”

“Okay!” She couldn’t contain her grin; she just knew this was going to be a great day. The first of many to come, she could feel it. Like a dream come true! “First, you might want to jump in the shower to clean off that syrup, I laid out some clothes you can wear so you don’t have to go anywhere in last night’s Halloween costume! They were a gift for someone else, someone long gone, but I think they should fit you.”

“Jump in the shower… like a waterfall?” Claude scrunched up his nose, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. “Indoors?”

“Yes, Claude, like a waterfall.” Joyce giggled, standing up and taking his hand in hers. It was her time to lead him in this dance. “Come on. I guess that’ll be the first stop on the tour!”


	10. World of Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran teaches Claude about her world as they spend the day at the museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Nov. 2, 2020. "With the Festival over, what does the Order do with all this leftover candy?!" Sorry, no candy in this one!

The cashier handed Joyce’s back her change and gave her the small paper bag holding the bagels she ordered. She tucked the coins into her pants pocket and picked up the cardboard tray that held two coffees’ with her free hand. She turned to find that Claude had kept himself occupied by the book stand. Looking at a popular women’s magazine, known for its trashy dating advice and questionable beauty secrets. She smiled, recalling their morning. He was in no need of advice or secret tips from a magazine. He looked like the models you would expect to find inside. The clothes she had given him had just barely fit, tightly hugging his fit form, or, maybe that’s how they were always supposed to be worn? Regardless the sweater and straight cut pants looked good on him, and by the way the cashier eyed Claude, Joyce knew she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

She walked across the room of her favorite café, the old wooden floors creaking under her steps, Claude was too engrossed in the magazine to notice her approaching, his eyebrow raised in confusion as he flipped through the pages. “Ready to go?” She interrupted after a moment of quiet observation.

Claude jumped, flustered and unaware she had been standing there. He turned the magazine over in his hands, closing it quickly. “Yeah, sorry, I was just reading about…” He paused, staring at the cover of the magazine. “ _Ten Ways to Drive Him Wild…”_ His cheeks flushed, his words trailing off in embarrassment.

She laughed, Joyce knew that even the most mundane and normal things around her sparked curiosity in him. “It’s fine. You don’t have to hide anything. It’s kind of cute to be honest.” She smiled and handed him the tray that held the coffee cups after he slid the magazine back on the shelf. “Anyways, I picked up some bagels with everything on them, and coffee. There’s cream and sugar in the bag if you need it. I hope that’s okay.”

“I’m sure it will be great.” He nodded and pulled open the door for her, the brass bell above chiming as they walked out into the cool weather.

Perfectly pleasant for a fall day. The air was cold and she decided to opt for pants and a long sleeve blouse, but not so cold that she needed anything more than a cardigan over top and comfortable flats to walk around in for the rest of the day. Joyce had suggested going to the museum, something to draw out the time she was able to spend with Claude, but not an activity that was too strenuous. He had seemed tired, distant that morning. As if there was something weighing on his mind, but he insisted on going, even after she offered to postpone.

“I figured we could eat in the museum’s garden before going in.” She told him, skipping down a set of concrete stairs that lead to a sunken garden surrounded by thick bushes, their leaves turning shades of yellows and oranges. There was a large fountain in the middle. She sat on the stone basin edge, unpacking their breakfast from the paper bag as he sat down to join her.

They ate quietly, content with each other’s presence and the sound of the water flowing over the fountain tiers. The noise of traffic was barricaded by the foliage. A private secret garden in the middle of the city. Joyce pulled at the iron key she wore around her neck. The one she found that morning in the pocket of the strange coat she wore last night. She felt and odd attachment to the old skeleton key, deciding to string it on a silver chain and wear key for the rest of the day. _1606 Fljót_? Her finger rubbed along the inscription on the side. A quick search online that morning yielded no results, but surely it must exist somewhere. She wondered what the house was like the key belonged too. Where it was and who the people were that lived there.

“It’s peaceful here.” Claude broke the silence, pulling Joyce out of her thoughts.

“Only because it’s the weekend. It will be busy tomorrow; when we all have to go back to work. Everyone takes their breaks in this garden.” She shrugged, sadly stating the fact. “Dreams over, back to the grind.”

“Where do you work?” He asked, finishing what was left of his toasted baked good.

Joyce did the same, passing her hands against each other, brushing off the crumbs. She shuffled up close to him on the stone seat so he could follow the line of sight, and turned, pointing towards the skyline, over the tops of the bushes. “See that building? The tall one, made of blueish green glass? I work there.”

“Wow, it’s beautiful.” He whispered, marveling at the large metal and glass structures. “You must do something very important to work in a place like that.”

“Nope, just a paper-pusher.” Joyce sighed, turning to face him, and drinking her coffee. “Administration. I don’t even sit near a window. Just in a small cube. What about you? What do you do back home?”

“I… I help people.” Claude took his time answering, trying to find the right words. He fiddled with the cup he was holding, pushing his thumbnail under the paper sleeve, and nodded, agreeing with his own words. “I lead them in the right direction.”

“Like your friend!” Joyce chimed in.

“Yes, like my friend.” He smiled, looking towards her.

Joyce thought she could have gotten lost in his eyes. A strange feeling of Deja Vu washing over her. She forced herself to look away, clearing her throat. “It must be fulfilling to know that what you’re doing with your life is making other people’s lives better. You know, making a difference in the world.”

“I’m sure you’re making a difference too. Helping people.” Claude finished his coffee, and placed the cup to his side. “Just in a different way.”

“Yeah right.” Joyce followed suit, draining her own cup, the semi-hot liquid warming and revitalizing her body as it went down. “I don’t think so, but my job puts a roof over my head and pays the bills, so I won’t complain!” She stood up, roughly scrunching the paper trash together, and tossing it in a nearby waste bin. “Ready to go?”

“I am.” He clapped his knees, pushing himself to his feet and followed her up the stairs opposite of those they had use to enter the sunken garden, and towards the large building. They made their way up a long, wide, set of steps and walking between polished marble columns. “So what can I expect from this museum?”

“Just your standard exhibits. Natural history, human history, scientific advances.” Joyce explained, reaching the entrance of the massive building. Colourful and bold signs directing attendees and advertising their latest exhibits plastered on the glass of the doorway. She pulled open the heavy doors, approaching the admission counter. “I use to go, like, every year when I was younger! It will be fun to see all my favorite displays again!” Joyce exchanged cash with the woman working the desk, receiving a couple of pamphlets, maps of the museum’s displays located on each floor. “Then I thought we could check out the traveling exhibit. It will be completely new for me!”

“I can hardly wait!” Claude looked at the map she had given him, the excitement in his voice did not match the uncertainty in his eyes. He followed her into the grand rotunda, his jaw dropping when he looked at the artifacts displayed from all different cultures and ages, as well as the intricate mosaic scenes of human history on the domed ceiling.

“Come on!” Joyce slid her hand in his, and pulled him along. “We can start in the far wing.”

The museum was quiet, they entered a bright and airy room, the daylight flooding in from the large panes of glass in the ceiling. The only other group was a family with their young son. The boy giggled at his father’s puns, while being held by the other, pulling at his long silver hair and pointing at the large reconstructed skeletons. Massive creatures that walked the earth long ago, stood reassembled, articulated in imaginative dynamic poses that might showcase how they once lived when the flesh remained on their bones.

“Dragons?” Claude whispered, looking up that them in awe.

“Dinosaurs!” Joyce giggled, trying to stay quiet, and not disturb the other patrons. They slowly walked through the exhibit, looking at the skeletal remains that had been replaced by mineral and rock. “There were all kinds of them. Big ones, small ones. Some that only ate plants, others… well, you get the picture.”

“Did people ride them?”

She laughed. “They lived millions of years ago!” Joyce could not contain her amusement. “Way before people ever existed. Now all that’s left to tell their story are their fossils.”

“They’re all gone?”

“Yup. Wiped out by a meteor that fell from space.” Joyce began to explain, stopping in front of a dusty plaster model depleting the catastrophic event, drawing near the exit of the exhibit. “Crashed into the earth, causing all sorts of natural disasters. Very few things were able to survive through it all. But it ushered in a world where mammals, and eventually humans could live and thrive.”

Claude followed Joyce into the next room. Dark and cool. A maze of glass cases, the artifacts inside illuminated with a cascade of warm light. Pottery, and stone tools, leading to woven fabrics stitched with furs. “And thrive we did.”

Side by side they walked, traveling through time that had been frozen on mannequins, and propped up by invisible plastic mounts. They each quietly gazed together at suits of armour, standing guard over their precious jewelry and furniture. Each era growing more extravagant in their design, as well as the materials used to make them.

“Incredible. All these different cultures. Living and learning from one another.” Claude sighed, looking at the displays, his tone growing somber. “It’s the future I want for my people back home.”

“Your people?”

“My countrymen, I mean.” He quickly explained, looking at modern depictions of ideal communities. “How does one accomplish such peace?”

“It’s not always peaceful. These displays paint a pretty picture, but there was, and still is, so much suffering around the world. It’s far from perfect. Maybe the pain is not on the same scale as in the past, but it’s still there.” Joyce pointed at a dark alcove to the side of the exhibit, flashing lights and the sound of loud pops and explosions drifted from the area. “Take the World Wars…”

“World… Wars?”

“Yeah, a lot of people lost their lives.” Joyce lead Claude through the exhibit of maps and old photographs of modern soldiers smiling, blown-up and plastered on the walls. Small artifacts displayed the trials of everyday life in the trenches and the fields. “The innocent died needlessly, and fighting for what they believed was right.”

“War never does change, does it?” They turned a corner, entering a large open space. Weapons made of steel lined the walls and Iron machines towered over them, a tank standing at attention, with a plane overhead, wings spread, ready for flight.

“These were used in your battles?” Claude asked, his eyes widened while he looked at them closely. “I have studied all forms of warfare. Combat, strategy, weaponry...” He hesitated, a sadness in his voice. “These are devastating. I’m not sure what I would do if I had to face this on the field.”

“And it just keeps advancing. Getting stronger, faster. More deadly.” Joyce sighed, looking at the large bomb shells used in the conflicts during their current age. She never wanted to see them in action, to be on the frontlines. The thought made her stomach turn, but who was she to judge. Everyone fights for a reason. What would be hers? What could compel her to lay her life down, she thought, pulling at the iron key that hung around her neck.

Joyce shook her head of the dark thoughts that clouded her mind, turning her back on the war machines and looking at Claude. “But technology has its upsides too, communication, travel, and modern medicines. Making the average person’s lives easier! Comfortable.” She laughed at herself, there was no need for her to fight, to worry about wars and battles. She was safe here, safe where she was. “Come on, this is depressing! Let me show you the planetarium, I love looking at the stars, and the prospect of space travel is a lot more optimistic!”

* * *

Placing the ceramic mug back on the shelf of the small gift shop outside of the planetarium theater, Joyce picked up a t-shirt, holding it up to her body, measuring the size and reading the slogan in the mirror. “ _My roommate went to the moon and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!”_ This will be perfect for him, she thought, stopping when she realized what she was thinking didn’t make sense. Who was it perfect for? She asked herself, I don’t have a roommate. Confused, she balled up the shirt and stuffed it back on the shelf.

Joyce spotted Claude standing in front of a display of the solar system, staring at a life size model of a spacesuit that was worn during the moon landing. The sadness in his eyes creeping across his face, that was reflected off the mirror surface of the helmet. He had been quiet during the whole show in the planetarium. Unable to look away of the projected images of planets and moons. Listening in awe as the announcer spoke of stars imploding, black holes, cosmic events, and the prospect of traveling to infinite universes and worlds beyond this one.

“Goddess, why did you show this to me? There’s so much more to learn here.” He whispered at his reflection, touching the glass with his fingertips and pressing his palm against it. “I don’t want to go back. How can I now?”

“Don’t go back then.”

“Joyce! I’m afraid you caught me talking to myself.” He forced a smile, and laughed at himself, running a hand through his careless hair. “I’m just having a hard time wrapping my mind around everything I have seen today.”

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but if you don’t want to go back home, then don’t.” She shrugged, smirking, and taking a step closer. “I mean; I certainly wouldn’t mind if you stayed.”

“I want to stay here too.” Claude pulled her close, holding her in his arms, and gently tilting her face towards his. “With you, Joyce.” He pressed his lips on hers, and whatever demons he seemed to be struggling with melted away in their breath.

Joyce smiled, dizzy and giddy, once they came up for air. She nuzzled his nose, and squeezed his sides. “Come on. We have one more exhibit!”

“I’m actually pretty tired…” Claude suggested, rubbing her shoulders. “Maybe we should go back to your place. Just relax for the rest of the day. You can show me more of your movies.”

“What?! Already? It’s just one more.” Joyce pulled out of his grasp, and grabbed his hand, leading him towards a large archway. Tall banners hanging at the sides, advertising the works of precious art in the traveling exhibit. “Besides I have never seen these pieces before! It will be new for me!”

“Joyce… please don’t go in there.” Claude protested as she dragged him along.

“We don’t have to stay long…” She fell silent, slowing her pace when she looked around at the empty room and blank walls she entered. There was nothing to look at. No signs, no artifacts, no art or models. Nothing to spark thought, or conversation. Just solid gray walls, to match the solid gray floors and ceiling. “Where’s the exhibit?” Joyce dropped his hand, wandering around the vacant space. An eerie feeling creeping up her spine. “I don’t understand. It should be here…”

“Joyce,” Claude reached for her arm to get her attention, he wore a worried expression on his face. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to listen to me before you say, or question anything I'm about to tell you.”


	11. Sweet Nectar’s Scent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude begins to explain to Joyce the dire situation they are in. As she tries to understand what is happening to her, they are ambushed by Plumeria, Dökkálfar of Dökkálfheimr, álfr of lewd dreams and dark desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Nov. 9, 2020. "The nightmare returns, and Plumeria makes her final stand."

Staring at the gray walls of the empty room, Joyce folded her arms. “What a disappointment. I was really hoping on seeing something new.”

“No, Joyce. Listen to me.” Claude tried to get her attention again.

“I must have got the exhibit dates wrong.” Joyce shrugged, chuckling at her silly mistake. She pushed the uneasy feeling she had felt away. “I’ll go ask the front receptionist, find out what’s going on.”

“Joyce!” Claude cried out, reaching and firmly gripping her upper arm, refusing to let her leave. “I need you to remember who you are.” He hesitated briefly, loosening his grasp before he quietly continued. “You’re the Summoner of the Order of Heroes in the World of Zenith. You were summoned to Askr, and you took on the alias ‘Kiran’ when you arrived. You summon heroes from other worlds to fight in the conflict with Embla.”

“Summoner?” Joyce repeated slowly, staring blankly at him.

“I know…” He laughed nervously. “I know what I’m saying sounds insane, but none of this is real. We are trapped in a dream. Your dream.” Claude squeezed her arms as he spoke, closely watching her reaction to each word. “We were investigating a suspicious group known as the álfr, who have been inflicting you, and other people in the castle with nightmares. They’ve trapped you in your dreams.”

“Castle? Álfr?” Joyce shook her head in disbelief, rotating out of his grasp. “This is unbelievable.”

“Look around you.” Claude pleaded, his tone turning desperate. “Everything is as you remember it. Your apartment, the city, this museum. But when you look closer, there are pieces missing, things your mind is glossing over, just filling in the small holes. Compensating with fragments and pieces that you can recall. Like a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit together, but it’s not working. Every time you turn your back, the cracks begin to show.” He pointed at the blank walls, trying to convince her. “There is no exhibit here, because the things you haven’t experienced yet can’t exist! Your mind is struggling to keep up with the façade.”

Joyce looked at the walls suspiciously, and then back to Claude. “No. I have the wrong dates.” She told him, taking a step back, turning on the heel of her shoe to leave. Convinced he was just playing some strange trick. “There’s a sensible explanation for this, like there is for everything.”

“You know something is wrong. You’re just ignoring it!” Claude followed closely behind. “Think back to the woman from the café, and then the woman at the front desk of the museum. They are the same person. They are just puppets your mind made-up to flush out this dream. Too make it feel real.”

“What you’re saying is impossible!” Joyce snapped back, getting frustrated, and a bit frightened.

“Okay, look at this pamphlet.” Claude pulled out one of the guides they were given when they first arrived, pointing at the cover. “It looks fine on the outside, perfectly normal. You know what the front should look like, the museum logo, the catchphrase, you can recall that, but the inside...” He opened the folds of the glossy thin book, handing the pamphlet to Joyce. “The information here you don’t remember, or don’t know. They’re just made-up words, strung together with no meaning.”

Joyce felt her breath catch in her chest, staring down at the paper. Unfamiliar words, forming nonsense sentences. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” She muttered, crushing the pamphlet in her hands, and tossing it away. “You’re out of your mind!” She bluntly told him, pushing her way past him.

Claude dashed out, catching her sleeve between his fingertips. “Joyce, please…”

“Don’t touch me!” She hissed at him, quickly pulling away, her anger swelling up inside. “I won’t be a part of your delusions Claude!” Joyce could see every word she spat at him was twisting a knife in his heart. She had to leave, to get away from his desperate, hurt eyes.

Joyce ignored Claude’s continued protest, striding for the exhibit exit, and back to the museum proper. She used the small crowds of people to conceal herself, disappearing into the sea of people that started to fill the building. Joyce took to the wide stone stairs, descending as fast as she could, clutching the polished wooden banister, taking care not to fall. She felt hot tears blurring her vision, and running down her cheeks. “I knew it was too good to be true.” She muttered under her breath, disgusted with herself for letting her guard down. For falling for Claude and all his cute quirks and charms. For turning a blind eye to the red flags that were clear as day in front of her.

She reached the bottom steps, trying to choke back her sobs. Joyce found a lone bench in a dark corner, to sit down on to catch her breath, taking care to avoid making eye contact with any strangers that might feel the need to inquire if she was okay.

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” Joyce scolded herself, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She leaned back on the bench, watching the shoes of patrons walk by, her gaze falling on a book stand in the gift shop. Would those books be the same as the pamphlet Claude showed her? “No. I don’t have to look. I know they’re normal.” She crossed her arms, trying to ignore the thought. Trying to remain calm.

Joyce bit her lip, glancing back at the shelf. Groaning, she pushed herself up off the bench, deciding to indulged her foolish mind and take a quick look. Just to confirm everything was normal, and she was, in fact, right. She pulled the first book off the shelf, opening it quickly, the hard new spine cracking as it opened for the first time. Her heart skipped a beat, the paragraphs arranged in sensible blocks of nonsensible words. “This can’t be real.” Joyce dropped the book, it thudded on the floor loudly as she reached for the next one. More of the same. Words in correct visual patterns, but unable to carry meaning. “No, no, no!” Joyce cried, pulling one book after another from the shelf, and looking at the inside. Her hand began shaking. “What’s wrong with me?” She whimpered, letting the small field guide slip from her trembling fingers.

“Can I help you?” The gift shop attendant politely asked, drawn over by Joyce’s odd behavior.

Glancing up at the woman, Joyce’s jaw dropped. The woman from the café, the one who had eyed Claude so hungrily. How can this be? She thought taking a step back and looking towards the cashier. Joyce gasped. More of the same, just like the books! The cashier, the patron buying souvenirs. They were the same person. She her heart started to race in her chest, looking around at the crowds of people within the museum. They were all the same, the men, the women, the children. Copies of each other.

“Can I help you?” The attendant asked again, reaching for Joyce’s shoulder.

“No!” She recoiled, running for the museum exit doors, trying not to touch anyone. Trying not to let the clones near her. Panic taking hold of her, her mind spinning in confusion. Joyce pushed through the heavy glass doors, running outside into the cool fall air, and down the entrance stairs of the museum. She stopped when she reached the bottom, unable to move, when she saw that the skyline had changed. Giants stone arches, gateways, and trees scattered between the familiar tall office buildings. A castle beyond the city, it’s spires scraping the sky along with the glass and steel towers that stood with it.

Joyce ran for the sunken garden to hide and get away from the sights. The structures and objects she ran by shimmering, and changing their forms like a mirage in the distance. She stopped in front of the fountain she and Claude sat at that morning. There, in the fountain, stood a grand statue of a dragon that was not there before. It’s feathered wings stretched out, shading the garden. ‘Askr.’ The name flashed in her mind. She covered her mouth, her scream catching in her throat.

“Joyce!” Claude came bounding down the steps of the garden, rushing over to her by the fountain that had changed. “Thank the goddess I found you!”

“Claude!” Joyce squealed, she was shaking so violently that when she reached out for him she stumbled, collapsing into his arms. “What is happening? I’m so scared.”

“You’re recalling your life in Askr.” He whispered, holding her close to his chest, resting his cheek on top of her head. “You’re starting to see through the cracks in your dream.”

“This is what you were looking at before, isn’t it?” Joyce looked up, hot tears flowing over her cheeks. “When you kept looking over my shoulder?”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure what to do.” Claude whispered, using the ball of his thumbs to wipe the tears away, his own face displaying the pain he felt. “I wanted to protect you from this. Keep the nightmare away a bit longer.”

Joyce sniffed back her tears, and shook her head, confused, trying to work out the information that was being thrown at her. “I don’t understand; how come you can remember this… this Askr, and I can’t?”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.” Claude sighed, looking around, it was clear he was just as scared as she was. “But something has connected our dreams, Kiran.”

“No. Don’t call me that name. It makes me feel… uncomfortable.” Joyce shivered, her head was starting to clear. She was adjusting to her odd environment, but the uneasy feeling returned when Claude said that name. She walked over to inspect the fountain, the great stone dragon watching over them, it made her feel better, even if she couldn’t remember its origins. “What happens now?”

Claude blew out his cheeks, exhaling hard, while running his hand thought his hair, and trying to hide the uncertainty he felt. “We try to wake up. What do you remember of Askr? Of what happened before you woke-up here?”

“I… I don’t know.” Joyce’s mind struggled to recall her life from a few days ago on her own. “It’s like everything before yesterday is clouded. Like _that_ was the dream.” She murmured, her mind drifting off, as she pulled at the iron key that hung around her neck. “And this is real.”

“How sweet, you found your little snuggle bug.” A woman giggled from the bushes. She sat high on a branch, grinning down on them. Clouds of flies swarmed her head of tangled pale thorny vines. Her long insect-like wings, twitched and buzzed behind her. The leaves on the branches surrounding her began to wither and turn brown. The once beautiful flowers of the garden, turning diseased and their petals falling away. Her presence poisoning them. “Too bad you started to remember, now I have to exterminate him.”

“Álfr!” Claude cried, his face twisting in anger. “How did you find us?!”  
  
  


  
“I followed the cracks in the hive, the buzz you created just being here, helping the summoner regain her memories.” She mused, drawing her finger along the wood, leaving a trail of decay. “I warned Triandra weaving your dreams together would be a mistake, but she just couldn’t help but meddle. Always sticking her finger in the honey to stir the pot.” The álfr scoffed, hopping off the branch, her light wings easing her landing. Her dark crimson eyes latched on to Claude. “I don’t know how you got here flea, but now I have to clean up this mess. Remove the infestation, and send the summoner deeper into our web. What a pain!” She huffed, clenching her fists. The plants around her rotting away and the swarm of flies growing in volume.

“That’s the thing that trapped us here?” Joyce’s eyes widened, as she watched the álfr in disbelief.

“ _Thing_?!” The álfr exclaimed, insulted at Joyce’s choice in words. “You pest! I am no thing! I am one of Freyja’s chosen! Plumeria, Dökkálfar of Dökkálfheimr! I am álfr of lewd dreams and dark desires.” She proudly presented herself, taking a step closer, a wide cat-like smile spreading across her face. A strange floating bramble following her every movement, glowing and bobbing up and down behind her. “Ooh, don’t be frighten, my little bee. I won’t pluck your wings. In fact, I will give you all the sweet nectar you crave. I will take care of you. Make you happy!”

Joyce couldn’t move, she didn’t know what to do as the creature approached her. She never seen anything like it before. Plumeria’s arms outstretched in front of her, vines wrapped around her limbs, beckoning Joyce to join her. To give her body and mind over to the álfr. A strange longing to submit to Plumeria creeping into her thoughts, telling her to go to the álfr as she stared into her eyes, taking a step forward.

“No!” Claude grabbed Joyce’s hand, roughly tugging on her arm, breaking her trance with Plumeria. “Joyce, run!” He cried out, pulling her towards the stairs.

“You tricky cricket!” Plumeria sneered, narrowing her eyes. Her wings starting to flutter and buzz behind her, lifting her precariously off the ground as she took to the air. “You won’t be able to scurry away from me!” She called out kicking off the statue of the dragon in the fountain, cracking the stone, and turning the water to black sludge. Plumeria flew up and over the sunken garden, her cloud of flies buzzing and following behind.

“What do we do?!” Joyce asked as they reached the top of the stairs, swatting at the few flies that buzzed around her face.

“I don’t know!” Claude didn’t stop, and he dragged her along with him, gripping her hand tightly. “Just keep running!” He cried out heading into the street. The puppet people of her dream continued to live their lives around them, unaware of the changing world, and the danger they were in. Traffic continued to flow, following the rules of the road. Cars and trucks coming to a screeching halt when Joyce and Claude crossed their path.

Plumeria flew above them, her cloud of flies darkening the sky. She cackled, her laughter echoing loudly off the buildings. This was her realm, and she was the one with the upper-hand. Plumeria smirked, spreading her arms out, her palms facing the earth. Her long fingers curling, commanding the thick vines that crawled beneath the surface to rise.

The ground began shaking under Joyce’s feet. The pavement and sidewalk cracking and falling away. Vehicles and pedestrians disappearing silently into large glowing gaps in the earth that opened up under them. She stopped, in shock of what was taking place around her, letting go of Claude’s hand. Joyce stumbled towards an abandon car, leaning against it and trying to regain her balance on the shaking ground. Buildings started to crumble, and utility poles came crashing down, a shower of electric sparks blinding her. Loud cracks of broken wires that whipped around them, cutting off any escape path.

She froze as gnarly thorny vines as thick as tree trunks began shooting up from the ground and towards her. Exploding through cars and people, their thorns ripping through, and catching their fragile frames, dragging whatever was too unlucky to be in the tendrils path with it. The vines slithered quickly towards her, trapping Joyce against the car with a patchwork cage of twisted metal and roots coated in blood.

“Joyce!” Claude cried from the other side of the gnarly wall of vines and tendrils, pulling and tearing at them with his bare hands, searching for an opening to slip through. The thorns scratching at his exposed skin.

“You shouldn’t have flown little bee.” Plumeria fluttered down, cornering Joyce in her cage. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like to be toyed with.” She frowned, her eyes narrowing into slits, slowly sauntering towards Joyce, discoloring and staining the pavement black as she touched it.

“Stop, please! I haven’t done anything to you!” Joyce pleaded, choking on her sobs, she tried to make herself small, pushing her back into the hard vines that trapped her, trying to put distance between her and the approaching álfr.

“Far too long I have been charged to watch your disgusting mind.” Plumeria placed her hand on the wall above Joyce’s shoulder leaning in closer. The stench of soil and rotten fruit reaching her nose and the flies buzzed around, tickling her skin as they landed and quickly flew off again. “I could have made you happy. Made your wildest dreams come true, but now, I’m going to make you pay.” The álfr snickered, gripping Joyce’s face in her hand, squeezing her cheeks, her fingernails slicing in as she forced her to look into her dark eyes. “I’ll give you your lewd desires, and with that, I’ll give you the shame, and the loneliness that always accompany those thoughts.”

Plumeria shifted her weight, reaching down to her side and plucking a flower from her belt. She raised the flower up to Joyce’s face, the petals slowly unfolding, releasing a light golden glow. Beading drops of nectar on the tips of the stigma, and a cascade of bright yellow pollen spilling over her hand. “I’ll give you all the pain and jealousy of a broken heart, and it won’t matter how much you try to fill your empty husk up with pleasure, you’ll never feel love again.” Plumeria held the flower between them, blowing softly on it, stirring the nectar’s sweet scent into the air.

“No!” Claude quickly interfered, grasping the álfr’s arm and twisting it away, freeing Joyce from her grasp and inserting himself between the two. His clothes were snagged and ripped, small cuts and scrapes beaded with blood on his arms and face caused from navigating through the thorny vines. He reached out and crushed the flower Plumeria held in his hand, taking the full brunt of the álfr’s attack and inhaling the sweet scent that was blown in Joyce’s direction. Claude dropped to his knees coughing, rubbing his face, desperately trying to wipe the sticky pollen off. “Joyce, run!” He wheezed, through labored breath, gasping for fresh air.

Joyce felt a surge of adrenalin course through her, scrambling to her feet, and dodging the screeching Plumeria as the álfr reached out for her. She ran, hurdling over vines, and ducking through the gaps she could fit through. Finding shelter, hiding behind a crumpled up vehicle. “What do I do?” she whimpered, clutching her head in her hands, her heart racing in her chest. “I can’t just leave Claude here…” Her body tensed up when Plumeria cackled. Shaking, Joyce, peeked her head over the hood, watching the álfr run her hand through Claude’s hair, gripping it roughly, and twisting his head upward while he cried out in pain, his face red and blotchy where the pollen adhered, mixing with his blood and sweat.

“Sweet love’s sacrifice.” Plumeria mused, rolling Claude’s head back like a doll. “You would do anything for her, wouldn’t you? Let’s just see what else you would do, shall we?” She snickered, moving behind him, and clutching the sides of his head in both her hands. Working her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, causing him to groan, and his eyes to roll back in his head. “I see you.” She whispered, her lips twisting in a cruel smile, low uneasy laughter escaping her throat. “No wonder Triandra took an interest! I’ll give you what you want, Claude, Almyra’s King.” She released him, his body slumping over, panting softly, the life in his eyes drained and dull, fully succumbed to her sweet scent spell.

Plumeria reached into the vines, breaking off a thin stock, she squeezed it in the palm of her hand. “Take this.” She used her power to transform the branch, forcing it to grow, elongating in size, taking on the shape of a bow made of twisted tendrils. A bright red spider, spun a single thread, dangling down, and securing the sting. She plucked a thorny arrow that grew from the bows side, and handed Claude the set. “Pearce this arrow in her heart. Plunge her deeper in the dream, and I will restore this world for you.” She smirked, watching him calmly rise to his feet, an empty shell under her control. “I will tuck away those nagging thoughts of your old life, and it will be just you and Joyce, living your simple, mundane lives. Blissfully unaware of your old responsibilities. Carefree in love, warm and snug, like a bug in a rug, in this cold world without dreams.” Plumeria whispered, lovingly pushing a lock of hair away from his face. “It’s your unspeakable desire, is it not?”

“Yes.” Claude’s voice was somber, and he spotted Joyce behind the car, taking aim and pulling the arrow back. “I do want that.”

“Claude, please stop!” Joyce yelped, the thorny arrow ripping through the hood of the car and tearing a hole in the side of her sweater, nearly hitting her. She wasn’t safe here, she realized, making a dash for the next object she could hide behind. Claude began striding forward, tracking her movements. He tore off a second arrow that grew from the gnarly bow, taking aim again. “Whatever she promised you, it won’t be real!” Joyce shouted to him, desperately trying to find cover.

“It will be better.” Plumeria’s voice seductively echoed, as she gently flew closely behind him.

“She won’t be me!” Joyce cried, when his arrow screamed past her, piercing the ground near her feet.

“She will be better.” Plumeria continued to whisper thoughts into his mind, pushing his actions and taking her pleasure toying with the couple’s hearts.

Joyce gasped, tripping over a root, and landing hard on her side, knocking the wind out of her. She winced rolling over on to her back, and pushing herself to sit up just in time to see Claude baring down on her. His third arrow already drawn and ready, pointing directly at her chest. “You won’t be you…” Joyce whimpered, tired and exhausted, shutting her eyes tightly when Claude released the last arrow.

A rush of warm air washed over her, and she felt the tickle of dust brush against her face. Joyce blinked, nothing had changed, still awake in the world. Sitting in a ruined city, with chaos all around her. She looked up at Claude, his dull eyes staring back at her. He readied another arrow, pulling it back, and pointing it down at her, letting it go. The thorny arrow squealed towards Joyce, its tip, and the body that followed, turning to dust as it tried to penetrate past the key that hung around her neck.

“What?! Iron!” Plumeria hissed, fluttering over. The cloud of flies angrily buzzing around them. She raised her floating bramble, casting a slew of vines and tendrils towards Joyce. All of them disintegrating, and turning to dust when they came too close to the key. An invisible barrier, keeping her safe. “Impossible! Even if she dreams of iron, it should hold no true power in this realm! Unless…” Her eyes widened, and she looked at Joyce in disbelief. “It’s real? Where did you get that worm?!” Plumeria landed hard behind Claude, cracking the ground beneath her. “Take it away from her! Rip it from her neck!”

“Claude?” Joyce sniffed, and she flinched as he knelt down following the álfr’s orders, grasping the old key. He gave it a quick tug, easily snapping the chain it was on. Claude carefully inspected the old iron key he held in his hand. Running his thumb over the inscription on the side, ‘1606 Fljót House.’ A brightening in his eyes began to return, chasing the fog away, clearing his mind. He snickered, quietly closing his fingers around the key and standing up, turning back to the álfr.

“Bring it here!” Plumeria demanded, stomping her foot, turning the ground to mud under her. “Before I squash you!”

“You know, you paint a pretty picture of what I want, but that’s all it really is.” Claude chuckled striding towards the álfr. “A Painting. Static, fading away in the sunlight overtime. If you did your homework, you would know that’s not where my desires end. My desires run so much deeper than what you can offer me!” He quickly took hold of Plumeria’s throat when he reached her, catching her off guard. She gasped, her fingers clawing at his wrists to release her. Claude took Joyce’s key and held it against the álfr’s forehead, pushing it in hard with the heel of his thumb. The iron key hissed and burned into her skin. “And I won’t let anyone stop me from pursuing what I want!”

“You monster!” Plumeria wailed, trying to wiggle free. Claude knocked her feet out from under her, hurling her to the ground, and pinning the álfr down. She screeched out in terror, insects scattering all around her. She reached to pulled the key off of her skin, only for its corrosive surface to burn her fingertips. The key continued to sink deeper, the skin around it withering and turning to ash as the álfr screamed in pain. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” She cried,slowly getting weaker, going limp. The poison from the iron surging through her limbs, taking its toll. The networks of vessels under her skin turning black. “What will happen to the realm of dreams now?” Plumeria whimpered sadly, her dark crimson eyes turning becoming dull and gray. Her neck started to crumble under Claude’s grip, his eyes widen, and he released her, standing to his feet, watching the cracks form along her body like the surface of dry mud. “Frayja….” Plumeria gasped unable to do anything else. “Mother…”

Joyce felt a sadness in her heart she didn’t understand as she watched the álfr slowly waste away. Something propelling her to go to the álfr’s side.

“Joyce, stay back!” Claude caught her sleeve, trying to stop her from getting too close.

“It’s fine.” She pulled her arm away, keeling beside Plumeria, the álfr struggling to hold on to life. Joyce spotted an odd doll that was attached to the álfr’s belt. Memories flashed in her mind, about a story she was once told about a girl trapped in a well, and speaking to a woman who had lost their daughter, taken by monsters in the night. “I’m sorry this happened to you, you were too young to know better.” Joyce whispered gently. The álfr tried turning her head, her body cracking from the movement. “I know all you really wanted was for someone to care for you.” Joyce lean down whispering a message into Plumeria’s ear, hoping that the álfr would still be able to hear her in her current state.

Joyce sat back on her heels, sitting quietly with the Plumeria in her final moments. “Thank-you.” She reached out to Joyce, her arm crumbling away before it could touch her. The álfr’s entire form turning to a pile of dust. The world around them becoming eerily quiet and still too.

“What did you tell her?” Claude crouched down, digging his fingers into the cold ash to retrieve the iron key. He held out his other hand after, helping Joyce to her feet.

Joyce continued to stare down at what was left of Plumeria, she didn’t feel happy to see her demise like she should have been. “I told her not to be afraid. That she would be summoned to Askr soon, and when she is, she’ll make her summoner very happy. That she will finally be loved.” Joyce hesitated, turning to look up at Claude. “Does that make sense to you? I’m not sure it does to me.”

“Yes, Joyce.” Claude wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, and placed the old key in the palm of her hand. “It makes perfect sense.”


	12. Flower of Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joyce and Claude have escaped Plumeria, but now they must escape the dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Nov. 16, 2020. "Triandra's long nightmare comes to an end."
> 
> Contains FE3H Claude story spoilers.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Joyce wrapped her fingers around the key in her hand, and slid it in her back pocket. She had read many stories in the past about ghouls, changelings, and other worldly creatures that would fall to cold iron. She was thankful to have something to ward off the álfr with, even if it was small in size.

“Do what?” Claude turned curiously surveying their ever changing environment.

“Wake-up of course.” Out of habit, Joyce moved from the centre of the road to the sidewalk. There were no vehicles the passed by, no puppet people that walked. It was just the two of them now. The city was quiet. “I pinch you, you pinch me.” She suggested. If the stories of iron and fairies were true, perhaps waking-up might be as easy as this. “Or pinch each other at the same time?”

“I don’t think that’s going to work Joyce.” Claude closely followed behind her.

“Well, what do you think we should do?” She looked over to the castle in the distance. It shimmered like a mirage between the glass office towers the surrounded it. Wyverns and Pegasus circling the spires. “I mean, you’re the one from fantasy land. You should have some ideas how all this should work.”

“I’m from fantasy land?” Claude slowly questioned her, drawing out her choice of words. “You have people that walk among the stars… What I wouldn’t give to live in a world like yours.” He sadly stated, looking at the wreckage of her world, and the technology he was only just learning about.

Joyce fell silent, realizing she hit a nerve. He wasn’t lying when he said he would give anything to be here, and he had proven that when he was under Plumeria’s sweet nectar’s scent. Her gazed moved to the castle again, never had she imagine the dragons, magic and fairies could be real. She could only wish for those things as a child, and here Claude was, he had those things. He lived in her fantasies, and all he wanted was the comforts of her world.

“Anyways, you’re right.” Claude interrupted her daydream, moving past her. “We need to figure out a way to get out of here and return to the waking world.”

“But what’s the key to doing that?”

Claude’s eyes widen, stopping mid stride to turn to Joyce. “The key! Of course!” He smiled, and his eyes sparkled like he had unlocked a box with all the answers. “When Plumeria first saw your key she said the iron shouldn’t hold any power here. Unless it was real! That key is from the waking world! Where did you get it?”

“I found it this morning.” Joyce dug her fingers into her back pocket, pulling out the old key. “In the wizard's coat I wore last night to the fair.” She frowned when she looked at it sitting in her palm, thinking about all the odd things she had pulled out of the coat. “I actually found a lot of things in those pockets, now that I think about it. Do you think it’s all real?”

“The summoner's coat, that’s right!” Claude placed his palm to his forehead, shaking it as he started to put the pieces together. “You do tend to stash quite a few things there. Where did the coat come from?”

“My sister. She left it at my door, but I guess that’s not really possible since this is just a dream.” She furrowed her brows as she recounted what had happened. It felt so surreal to say those words out loud. “My mind must have made up that story. I don’t think the álfr would have sent it to me.”

“Was there anything else with the coat?”

“Yes!” Joyce enthusiastically remembered. “A strange weapon! It was white, with gold decorative gilt, and sort of looked like a pistol. I thought it was pretty weird for a wizard! I mean, shouldn’t they use a staff or something. Not a strange looking gun?” She began rambling.

“Breidablik…” Claude quietly whispered over her words.

“Anyways, I left it in the box, and hid it under my couch…” She continued, until his words sunk in, and Joyce turned to look at him curiously, tilting her head. “Brie, dab and lick?”

“Breidablik.” Claude let out an amused chuckle, as he corrected her. “It’s an ancient and powerful weapon from Askr. Your weapon! You must still have a connection with it. Like a life-line.” He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “You once confessed to me that it wields you, and not the other way around. Perhaps it found its way to you. If we’re lucky this might be one of those times where it’s going to lead us in the right direction.”

“My weapon?!” Joyce cried out, shocked at the idea. “There must be a mistake. I don’t know how to use any kind of weapons, let alone, how to shoot a gun.”

“Don’t worry. You mostly use Breidablik to summon heroes.” He reassured her, dismissing her concerns with a wave. “I have never seen you fight with it.”

“Oh. Well that sounds more like me.” Joyce sighed in relief, her shoulders slouching forward.

“You use your tome if you want to hurt someone.” He added with a snicker.

“Excuse me, what?!” She almost fell backwards, struck by this new information. It was like she had been a whole different person in this Askr. A double life she couldn’t grasp yet.

“Come on, let’s get back to your apartment before more of the álfr show up.” Claude gave an uneasy look around. “I’m sure we will be able to find more answers once we have Breidablik.

“You think more álfr will come?” Joyce pouted, she closed her eyes tightly at the thought of more of those creatures showing up. “Oh man, I wish we had weapons right now to protect ourselves with!”

“J-Joyce…” Claude stuttered, taking a hold of her arm, and turning her around. “As soon as you said that, the armoury from the Aether Keep appeared!” he loudly exclaimed, shaking his head, bewildered by what he just saw. He reached for the door handle, pulling the door open. “Like you willed it to exist!”

“Huh?” Joyce quietly followed him into the shop. “I don’t understand.” All kinds of weapons lined the walls. Firearms and swords. Axes, spears, bows from a time long ago sitting beside rifles and hand grenades. An assortment of weapons one would read in a thick novel, side by side with arsenal you would expect to see on the modern battlefield.

“Of course. Breidablik, your coat, this shop. It’s your dream.” Claude marveled at the thought, picking up one of the bows and pulling at the string, testing it. “The álfr might have created and trapped us here, but ultimately you have control of it. You can manipulate this world as you see fit.”

Joyce wandered around the shop, looking at the racks that held the weapons, her imagination running wild about what Askr might be like. A castle full of heroes, she wondered, touching the cold steel of a sword with pretty blue gems along the hilt. “Hey, are you really a king?” She turned back to Claude, curious about who he really was, remembering what Plumeria had said. “Am I supposed to address you like one?”

“Well, yeah, I am. And no, please do not do that.” He laughed, and put the bow down. “You didn’t before, and I would rather you not start.” Claude picked up a tome, it’s gray edges frayed and flaking, he tossed it to her. “Besides, I’m not the only one. There’s many heroes in Askr that are of royal descent too. I’m no different than the rest of them.” He informed her, picking up a hand gun from its case, and looking at one of the posters on the wall. “You’re the important one really!” Claude cheerfully said, as he widened his stance, pointing the gun. Mimicking the marksman on the advertisement.

“Me? With heroes, kings and queens? This is too much.” Joyce mumbled, leaning against the glass case behind her, she sighed, staring at the gray tome he had given her. Did he really expect her to be able to use this? Joyce looked up when she heard a soft clicking sound, as Claude continuously pulled the trigger of the unloaded gun. “Hey! Do you even know how to use that?” She yelled at him, putting the tome down and placing her hands on her hips.

“I saw someone use it in one of those movies you showed me!” He joyfully exclaimed, smirking as he took aim again.

“Claude, I don’t think this is the time to learn…” she wearily hung her head. She had enough to worry about other than him accidently shooting her in the back.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Claude gave a disappointed sigh, looking at his new found toy, and placing the handgun back in its case. “Stick to what you know, right?”

Just as he shut the case there was a loud crash outside the shop window. The sound of metal twisting, and rubbing against itself. They both turned to look at each other at the same time with confused expressions on their faces. Out of the corner of her eye, Joyce saw a whirl of colour, light glinting off the metal of a crumpled car that rolled down the centre of the road. “What was that?!” She squeaked, the small hairs on the back of her neck raising.

“I don’t know.” Claude whispered, bending his back, creeping up to the window, making sure to stay out of sight. “Come here. Stay low.”

Joyce did as he instructed, crouching down and quickly joining him by the window. She peeked her head up, looking out into the street, and gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. It was just as Claude predicted.

The álfr walked slowly down the centre line of the street. Her short ruby hair, covering half her face, and her wings vibrating and buzzing on her back. Vines curled around her limbs, and a bramble, just like Plumeria’s, danced behind her. This álfr’s footprints left a trail of black sludge, pools that looked like thick, viscous oil. The bubbles forming on the surface would pop, releasing black vaporous mist that wisped up around her. Small creatures emerged from the pools, among broken pieces of ivory bone, bobbing within the sticky mess. Toads and snakes, hopped and slithered out, croaking and hissing, following their mistress.

She pushed around, and picked up abandoned and damaged vehicles in her way with a flick of her wrist. The dark vaporous mist forming clawed hands that she commanded, tossing the wreckage aside like they were toys. She paused in the middle of the street, looking down at the pile of ashes that had been Plumeria. With a hop, her delicate insect wings fluttered, and she took to the air, the sticky sludge strings snapping back from her feet once they reached their limit.

Landing quietly, and kneeling down, the álfr reached two fingers into the pile of ash. Quickly pulling them out, rubbing her fingers together as she stood up. She raised her hand to her face to inspect the dust, sticking her fingers in her mouth, to suck on them. The álfr snorted, removing her hand, strands of thick saliva drawing out, still attached between her fingertips and lips. “Iron.” She snarled, clenching her hand, her tone was cold and uncaring about the demise of her fellow álfr.

The álfr narrowed her eyes, looking around the empty street. “You can’t hide forever summoner!” She bellowed, her voice echoing off the stone buildings. “Come out from whatever burrow you have dug yourself! I don’t have time for your games.”

“Oh no.” Joyce tensed up when she heard the álfr call out for her. She turned to anxiously whispered to Claude. “What do we do? Do you think we can get close enough to use the key again?”

“Maybe.” He continued to watch the álfr, his body stone still as he concocted a plan. “If I distract her, you can swing around and use it.” Claude turned to Joyce, resting a concerned hand on her shoulder. “Do you think you’re up for that?”

She looked out again, and tried to push her fears aside. After all that’s what summoner Joyce would have done. Heroes don’t follow weak people, she reminded herself. “What other choice do we have?”

“Okay.” Claude quickly picked up the bow, and swung a quiver of arrows over his shoulder. “I’ll go out first, and confront her. Divert her attention away from the storefront. Then you sneak out, and come up from behind. Just hold the key against her skin, the iron should do the rest of the work.”

Joyce nodded her head that she understood, and wrestled the key out of her pocket while his back was turned. Trying to hide how badly her hands were shaking.

“Piece of cake.” Claude gave her an encouraging smile, when he turned back to face her. “Wish me luck!” He swung open the door of the armoury shop, striding out into the street. “Álfr!” He confidently called out to her, readying his bow. “What took you so long? The party’s already started!”

“You? How are you here? I did not bring you here.” The álfr sneered, watching Claude as he moved in front of her, keeping a healthy distance between them. “Forget it, I actually don’t care. You will tell me where the summoner is, and I will give you a swift end for your compliance. I have no need for your dreams anymore.”

“My dreams?” Claude kept his eyes locked on the álfr. Making sure to not give away Joyce, who had snuck out of the shop. He smirked when he started to connect the dots, and decided to keep the álfr busy with his words. “Oh I see. You’re the one Plumeria was speaking of. The one who weaved my dreams with the summoners.”

“Correct. Many a night have I visited your mind. Do you remember me, Claude? The nights you wake-up in a cold sweat, screaming, crying for your mother?” A cruel smiled creped across her cold emotionless face. “Those nights belong to me. Triandra, Álfr of Nightmares, and the right hand of Lady Freyja.” Triandra looked down her nose at Claude, any expressions melting away, and she pointed to him. “Now tell me where you are hiding the summoner, I have work to do.”

Claude chuckled, he could see that Joyce had managed to sneak up behind Triandra. He just had to hold her attention a moment longer. “Plumeria was right, you know. It was a big mistake to weave our dreams.” He raised his bow, pulling back his arrow and taking aim. “You see, separated you might have had a chance, but together there’s nothing that can stop us-“

Claude croaked, his arrow flying off in an unpredictable direction as he dropped his bow and reached quickly for his throat. Black vapors clinging to his body, wrapping around his neck.

“I don’t make mistakes.” Triandra clenched the fist of her extended arm, constricting the mist that enveloped him, choking the life out of his body. She slowly turned to look back at Joyce behind her. “Drop what you’re holding, or I’ll snap his neck.”

She froze. “Claude…” Joyce whimpered, looking at his suspended body just above the pavement. His feet swinging wildly, desperately trying to find solid ground as his face turned red. She gasped as she let the key fall from her shaking hand, following Triandra’s demand. The key hit the pavement with a light ting, and bounced into one of the black sludge puddles that were at the álfr’s feet.

“Good.” Triandra turned back to Claude, clenching her fist harder.

“Stop it!” Joyce desperately shouted, taking a step forward. “I did what you ask! Let him go!”

“You misunderstand me. I never said I would let him go.” Triandra coldly stated, the thick black mist crawling over Claude’s body. He helplessly tried to break free of it, unable to physically take a hold of it, he clawed at his own skin. Triandra looked back at Joyce, her crazed smile returning. Taking pleasure in her work. “Besides, I like his nightmares. He doesn’t dream about the ghouls; he doesn’t fear them like the others. Oh no, it’s his own blood he spent his childhood running from. I know what that’s like, when you have to live with the monsters you fear.”

“You’re killing him!” Joyce pleaded, she didn’t know what else to do. Frozen in fear, helpless, wet hot tears stinging her eyes.

“Don’t fret. It will not take much longer.” Triandra rolled her eyes, annoyed by Joyce’s cries. “Then I will take you deeper into the dream, and you both will be at peace.”

Joyce felt a power well up inside her, channeling outward, and towards the álfr. “NO!” the sound of her voice reverberated off the building around them, shaking the dream world. The force that she expelled from her body colliding with Triandra, blasting the álfr back into a building across the street, freeing Claude from her clutches. The vibrations caused the tower above her become unstable and collapsing on top of the álfr. Burying her under tonnes of rubble.

Joyce quickly reached down and grabbed the key back from the edge of the black sludge, running over to Claude, shouting his name. “Are you alright?” She knelt down, helping him sit-up.

“Yes.” He gasped, through labored coughs. Claude’s face returned to a healthy colour, save for his neck that continued to be blotchy red, dark purple bruising beginning to surface. “Just a bit dizzy.”

“Can you run?” Joyce inquired, helping him to his feet. “I think we have to go, like, now.” She looked around concerned, she knew Claude was in no condition to do what she asked, but she was still on edge, and was not convinced it was the last time they would see Triandra. “I don’t think I killed her.”

“Just give me a minute.” Claude groaned, steadying himself, as he grasped her shoulder.

Joyce nervously looked around. Whatever she had done to the álfr had effected the world around them. Buildings started to crumble and break apart. Some chucks of buildings and rubble came crashing to the ground, other debris floated, suspended in the air, quietly hanging or slowly rising higher in the sky. She swallowed hard, wondering if she would be able to figure out how to get back home if everything had changed.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to calm herself. “I just really wish there was a faster way to get to the apartment…” As soon as those words left her lips, the rubble beside them started to transform. Bricks and stone shimmering and changed, forming the shape of an old flagstone cottage, with a cobblestone path winding through a small garden, embedded within her old apartment building, the black metal fire escape creeping down the side. “What the…”

“It’s Fljót House.” Claude looked at her in awe. “Your home, in Askr.”

“Fljót House.” She slowly repeated his words, touching the inscription on the key in her hand. The words stirring emotions in her. All she wanted to do was go inside, climb the staircase to her room, slide into her bed and fall asleep to the sound of the river flowing outside. Joyce didn’t understand these thoughts, but she also didn’t care, she was exhausted and just wanted to go home.

“Come on!” Claude shouted, breaking her trance. The wind had started to pick-up, leaves and loose garbage fluttered by, blown around mercilessly. Dark storm clouds moving fast across the sky, blocking out the light of the sun. “Let’s find Breidablik, and hopefully get out of here!”

“Right.” Joyce agreed, taking the key and sliding it into the old lock. She turned it until she heard a soft click, and held her breath as she grasped the handle, pushing the door open.

She blinked once, then twice. It wasn’t what she expected to see. Instead of the walking into the old cottage, she entered her apartment, and it was exactly as they left it that morning. Even as Claude shut the door and she crossed the small room towards the couch, she could see that they were now on the sixth floor of the apartment building, even though they had just entered at ground level.

Joyce reminded herself that this was a dream, and dismissed the thoughts, determined to stay focused on the task in front of her. “I packed Breidablik away in the box, and put it under the couch.” She gave an uneasy laugh, as she knelt down to retrieve the box. “To think, we were sitting there watching movies all night, while an ancient weapon was right under us!”

She pulled out the large box and placed it on the couch. Claude walked over holding the coat she had worn the night before. He was digging his hand in the one of the pockets, and pulled out a small wrapped candy. His eyes widened and he eagerly tossed it away. “What now?” Joyce asked, lifting the lid, and pushing the tissue papers back, revealing the ancient weapon.

“Try pointing it at something.” Claude sat on the edge of the couch, looking down at it. “I don’t know, maybe the doorway?” he shrugged, his mannerism reflecting how tired he was as well.

Joyce reached down to pick-up Breidablik, touching its cool steel surface. Just as she did the wind the howled outside cracking the windows, blowing them out. She ducked when she heard the sound of glass shattering and the winds crashing through the walls, blowing everything in the room towards the back wall. Tossing the furniture towards the inner wall, carrying Joyce and Claude with it. Showering them with shards of glass and wooden splinters, chunks of drywall and brick.

“Joyce?!” Claude cried out, pushing the small coffee table off of him. “Where are you?”

“I’m here!” Joyce coughed from the other side of the room, trying to clear her lungs of the dust she had inhaled, struggling to free herself from the books that had fallen on top of her from the shelf. She shielded her eyes from the whipping winds, the whole outward facing wall had been blown inwards. The sky beyond the broken brick wall was black, as the dark clouds engulfed the building. She quickly started to look around, searching in the destruction. Where did the box go? She panicked, where’s Breidablik?

The winds began to die down, the sound of a high pitch fluttering coming closer. Triandra riding her thick black vapors, storming into the room, landing hard. Her wing bent at an odd angle, and her body bloodied and bruised. “You caught me off guard back there, summoner, but that won’t happen again.” She snarled, a pool of black sludge forming at her feet, flooding the space. Bubbling bones and body chunks, floating on the surface. Triandra stopped, her eyes widen when she spotted something that peaked her interest.

Joyce followed the gaze of the álfr that fell upon the ancient weapon that had been thrown from its box. She scrambled to her feet, trying to find her footing in the rubble, and made a mad dash for it.

Triandra laughed, using her black mist to reach the weapon before Joyce, snatching it up just as her fingertips grazed against its smooth metal. The álfr’s smoky wisps cradling Breidablik, bringing it towards her. “How peculiar that this weapon came into your possession here. Lady Freyja was right to be wary of it.”

“Give it back!” Joyce cried out, rattling the walls. Items behind her, books, lamps, pieces of her old furniture, and objects from her small kitchenette began to respond to her call, taking flight and hurling themselves toward Triandra. Pelting her without mercy, knocking her back, away from Breidablik.

“Careful now.” Triandra dodged a decorative clock, wiping blood that trickled down her chin, “You don’t want anyone to get hurt do you?” She smirked, glancing over. The puddles of black sludge had formed around the cracked bones that floated within the pools. Creating misshapen creatures that clawed their way across the floor towards Claude. He was injured and slumped against the wooden table he had taken cover behind. The ghastly creature’s sickly limbs stretching out, and dragging their gooey mass, with assortment of fangs and teeth snapping wildly.

She quickly changed the focus of her assault towards the monstrous creatures, keeping them at bay. Joyce began to crawl over the rubble that was once her apartment, taking care not to come in contact with any of Triandra’s creations. “Claude!” She joined him behind the broken table. Both dirty and bloodied. They had both seen better days.

“I’m fine. You have to get Breidablik back. At whatever cost!” He winced, holding his side, blood stains soaking through his clothes. “I’ll hold these things off; it will give you enough time to attack her.”

“What?!” Joyce quickly protested. “No way, that’s suicide! You can’t fight them all by yourself! We’ll find another way.”

“No, there is no other way.” Claude closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the table that supported him. “This is a dream. I’ll be fine.”

“We don’t know that. The coat, my key, Breidablik. They’re all real! From the waking world. You could be too!” She meekly told him, unwilling to risk his life.

“That’s what Triandra wants you to think.” He informed her, reaching up and breaking off one of the legs of the table with his good arm. “And I’m willing to take that chance.”

“No, I won’t let you…” She stood her ground, something reminded her it was her job to keep him safe.

“You have to end this, Joyce, I know you’re scared, but you have to be brave.” He flashed her an encouraging smile. “For all of us.”

Joyce clenched her fist, itchy hot tears trickled down her cheeks, mixing with dust, sweat and blood. He was a king, he wasn’t supposed to sacrifice himself for her, it should be the other way around. The Joyce in Askr must be pretty special if he is willing to lay down his life to help her. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “Claude…”

“Khalid.” He smiled, and leaned over, running his hand up the back of her neck, pulling her towards him. “It’s only fair that you know my true name too.” He pressed his lips passionately against hers, inhaling her scent deeply, holding her there for a moment of bliss before finally drawing back.

Joyce reached up to touch his hand that cradled the side of her cheek, kissing the underside of his wrist. Realizing it wasn’t the summoner in Askr he was sacrificing his life for, it was for her, the one kneeling in front of him, here and now, and she couldn’t let him down now.

“I’ll see you on the other side, okay.” Claude reassured her, standing, and helping her to her feet.

The black sludge creatures that crawled their way closer, sticky tendrils wrapping around the edges of the table and cracking it apart. There was nowhere for them to hide anymore. Claude kicked what was left of the table towards the monsters, opening up a bit of space for him to start swinging the wooden table leg. He distracted them from attacking her, turning back to give her one final nod in her direction.

“Álfr!” She shouted to get Triandra’s attention, the sky had gone pitch black, and the dark pool beneath the álfr’s feet had doubled in size. More and more black sludge bone creatures continued to crawl out of it. She reached in her back pocket for the iron key to protect herself. “You will give Breidablik back to me!” Joyce demanded, pointing at her ancient weapon that hung precariously with the álfr’s bramble.

“You’ll have to take it from me, summoner.” Triandra dryly warned her, her broken wing twitching, using whatever power she still had to create the monsters from her pools. “I won’t let you foil Lady Freyja’s mission.”

“If that’s how you want it.” Determined to get her weapon back, Joyce crawled over the piles of debris and rubble, closer to the edge of the sludge pool. Using the key to fend off any creatures that got to close. Slashing at their soft bodies, tearing through them, turning the goo to dust.

“You would let him die?” Triandra smirked, keeping her distance, and sending all the creatures towards Claude, overwhelming him. The creatures had grappled the table leg from his grasp and began clinging to his body. “No. I don’t think you have the heart.”

“He won’t die.” Joyce closed her eyes so she didn’t have to witness Claude’s pain. “It’s just a dream…” She reminded herself.

“Either way, it will be slow and agonizing. He won’t be the same. Death might be the better option. Turn back. Save him while you can.” The álfr pressed her, encouraging her to go back to him by tugging at Joyce’s heart. “It’s your job after all. To protect the heroes.”

Joyce winced, there was a ping of guilt when she heard those words, coupled with Claude crying out in pain. “If I want to protect them, I have to wake-up.” She clenched the key in one hand, and raised the other, reaching out to Breidablik, wishing for it to returned to her. It was her dream after all, she should be able to commanded it to come to her.

“Listen to his screams.” Triandra’s voice grew louder, her wisps struggled to hold the ancient weapon at her side. “Why do you let your hero suffer, Kiran?”

“I have to be brave!” Joyce strained her arm and fingers, trying to ignore the pain she felt listening to Claude’s wails. She had to stay strong, if she went to his side now everything he had done for her would be for nothing. Joyce opened her eyes to see Breidablik wiggling free of the álfr’s power, a soft white glow surrounding it as she pulled it towards her.

“You’re being a bad summoner!” Triandra angrily shouted out, fluttering awkwardly towards Joyce, trying to stop Breidablik from reaching her.

“I have to get back to Askr!” Joyce grasped Beridablik and pointed it at Triandra, stopping her in her path. She felt a familiar sensation, a warmth of power welling up inside her, flooding her body, and rushing through her arm. However, she held it back. For the first time Breidablik stayed under her control.

“Do it!” Triandra hissed, looking down the barrel of the weapon. Her cold eyes locked with Joyce’s. After a moment of the stand-off, the álfr snickered, a cruel smile creeping across her lips. “You can’t even kill me, can you? You’re not brave enough!” She threw her head back and laughed. The black sludge rippled around the room. Amused, she grinned and pointed at Joyce. “Just another scared little girl. A failure! You are not worthy of the title summoner.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” Joyce calmly confessed, she continued to point Breidablik at the álfr, it’s power tingling in her fingertips. “I was hoping to give you a second chance.”

“I don’t need you, or your charity!” Triandra spat back, reaching out to stop Joyce.

“You will.” Joyce pulled the trigger of Breidablik before Triandra could touch it. Unleashing the power that had been building up within her upon the álfr. The sound of the blast drowning out Triandra and Claude screams. Silencing the room. Hot white light illuminated the space, blinding Joyce. She continued to opened the flood gates within her, not holding any energy back, allowing Breidablik’s full power to disintegrate the very world that surrounded her. Her old world, her dream was no more, and with the power that rushed forward, so did her memories of Askr.


	13. Facing Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran finds herself at the Dream Gate, where she meets Lady Freyja. Queen of Dökklálfheimr. The summoner now must make the choice to stay dreaming, or to return to the waking world and live with the consequences of those choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Nov. 23, 2020. "The truth revealed, and the Order sundered."

The bright light began to fade into a dull gray fog. Giant boulders of her world and Askr floated in the sky around her. Chunks of structures from her dream suspended like islands that one could soar to if they could fly. Nothing else but those islands as far as she could see through the dense mist. On her little chunk of rock? Stood nothing but two arches. Empty and dead.

“It didn’t work. I’m still in a dream!” Kiran’s hand shook and her arm weak, letting Breidablik fall to her side in defeat. “And now, I’m alone…” She felt the well of sadness overflowing within her, and she collapsed her knees. The cold stone of the ground, and the cool mist that swirled around her sent a chill through her body. “What do I do? What would Alfonse do?” She choked back tears, securing Breidablik back in its holster. She was at a loss of where she was, or even how to leave. How to get back to the waking world.

Kiran hung her head, listening to the low wail of the wind howling through the floating islands. Until she could hear the clear and familiar sound of hooves scraping the stone behind her. She held her breath, afraid to look, scared to face whatever nightmare was approaching her now. The harsh sound echoed off the fog around them, changing as it grew closer. The slide of flat cuticle hooves on rock switching to that of a heel point, followed by the tip tap of a staff.

“Here you are.” A gentle voice sung. “I heard you were giving my álfr troubles. Managed to banish them, and break from your dream I see.”

The woman’s white skirting flowed in front of Kiran, and she gazed up. “Who are you?” She meekly asked, brushing the tears from her cheeks. The woman towered over her. Her dress adorned with jagged wings of a butterfly, held together by branches and twigs. Crimson horns spiraled around her head of long snowy white hair. Her gnarled staff of twisted wood, bloomed with an assortment of flowers.

“I am Lady Freyja. Queen of Dökklálfheimr, the realm of Nightmares.” She held her hand out, aiding Kiran to her feet. “I truly didn’t expect such a small thing like yourself to be the summoner.” Freyja’s dark red eyes, capped with rectangle pupils judged the summoner curiously. “To be the that irritating thorn in my side.”

“You know who I am?” Kiran was captivated by her beauty. Drawn in by the queen’s presence.

“But of course! You are special. My brother, Freyr, saw it first, and now I can see it too.” Freyja grinned, and wrapped her arm around Kiran’s shoulders, leading her to one of the stone arches. “You are the only one that can keep the dream alive.” She paused, reaching out and touching the centre opening of the arch, a pool of black water flooding into the empty space. “To keep Prince Alfonse alive.”

“What?!” Kiran took a step back. Freyja’s words were like a punch in her gut.

“Don’t you remember? Oh, how awful of you to have forgot. It’s funny how dreams work, is it not?” Freyja clasped her hands together and pouted, tilting her head in pity. “Alfonse is dead. The Alfaðör willed it so, and if you want to ever be with him again you have to keep dreaming your special dream. It’s the only way to keep him alive.”

“No…” Kiran whispered, hot tears spilling over her cheeks. “This can’t be.”

“I’m afraid so, but don’t be scared, I’m here to help you.” Freyja returned to Kiran’s side, wrapping a comforting arm around her, and leading the summoner towards the arch. “I will guide your special dream. Just relax, and soon you will be with Prince Alfonse again, and you will resurrect my brother for me. After all, you owe him that.”

“I do?” Kiran looked up at Freyja curiously. She couldn’t remember a thing about this Freyr. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“I know. _I know_. It is confusing at first, but do not be scared, it will be over soon.” Freyja stopped in front of the black pool, turning to face Kiran, cradling the summoner’s head in her hands. “All you have to do is close your eyes, and wish to give your dream over to me. I will send you back to your world. Send you back to the one you love, and then we can stay dreaming together.”

“Stay… dreaming?” Kiran felt an overwhelming tiredness wash over her, Freyja’s voice lulling her into a false sense of security. She knew she shouldn’t trust this woman, but her mind and body where growing weak and numb.

“There she is!” A shout from behind, someone in the fog running swiftly towards them.

“Rancid mortal!” Freyja hissed, gripping Kiran’s neck and tossing her aside. The queen’s illusion faded away. She was not the beautiful woman that once stood there, but someone twisted and cruel. Her dress was torn and bloodied. Her skin scratched and bruised, half of her face had been badly burnt, ruining her left eye and forcing it closed. It had looked as if she had been in a recent battle, and had picked the losing side.

“Stay away from her!” A young woman cried out, a shower of rainbow lights cascaded around them as the young man slashed his blade downward on the queen, her form, just another illusion, fracturing and shattering, dissolving into the mist.

“Alfonse!” Kiran gasped, Freyja’s lullaby wearing away, her mind becoming clear. “I knew she was lying!” She ran over to the young prince, throwing her arms around his neck, and he just stood there, motionless. “You’re… you’re not Alfonse, are you?” Kiran questioned, allowing her arms to slide away, and stepping back.

“No. I’m not.” He responded calmly, sliding his blade back into its sheath.

Kiran’s eyes widened in the realization that she had met him before. “You’re me.” She pointed at him, then herself. “We met in the waking dream before.”

“You remembered.” He smirked, and gently nodded his head.

“But why are you here?”

“Oh! Well I think I can help fill in some gaps!” His companion flew over, fluttering on golden butterfly wings. Blonde buns, decorated with bright flowers, shined like a sunny day. A healthy green bramble danced behind her, glowing orange and yellow. She landed gently beside him. “You see, when the Dökkálfar pulled you into their nightmares you panicked! Your mind couldn’t deal with the terrible dreams they had shown you. So you made a wish.” The young woman beamed in delight, her pale yellow petal dress shook as she shimmied while she explained. “You wished to be Alfonse! You believed that if you could think like him, fight like him, to be brave like him, you would know what to do! You believed that it would be your best chance to defeat the nightmares! You wished so hard that you split your dream in two.” She squealed, throwing her arms up in the air, and floated off the ground, unable to control her fluttering wings. “Half of your dream dealt with Lady Freyja as Alfonse, and the other half, the part of you that carried the memories of your world went deeper into the dream. Where you thought you would be safer, playing along with the Dökkálfar’s plans.”

“And who is this?” Kiran raised her eyebrow, crossing her arms. This woman was clearly álfr, but different. She didn’t seem like Plumeria and Triandra, but Kiran wanted to be cautious.

“This is Peony, she’s a Ljósálfar of Ljósálfheimr. A light álfr. She and her friend helped me navigate through the dreams and the nightmares.” He began to explain, leading Kiran away from the dark pool of the archway. “Peony has help me reach the Dream Gate so we may join our minds.” He pointed at the second arch, which sat still and empty. “All of us have been fighting hard to get back to the waking world, and end Freyja’s nightmares. We have weakened her enough to use the horn of Gullinkambi. The others have already started to wake. Now it’s time for you to take charge, I can’t go without you. It’s up to you to choose to stay dreaming, or to return to the waking world.” He turned to face Kiran, holding out a twisted horn with elaborate carving along the side. “Here take this horn. Dream-King Freyr has instructed that once we become of one mind again, to blow it to retuned to the waking world.”

Kiran looked down at the horn that he gave her, and shook her head. “But… what about Alfonse?”

“Don’t believe Lady Freyja’s lies!” Peony angrily cried out, her fluttering becoming erratic. “I’m sure your friend is alive and well!”

“But, how can I trust you. You are álfr too.” Kiran took a cautious step back, form Penoy. “Like the others.”

“Peony is not like the others you faced.” He chuckled, reassuring Kiran and gesturing for Peony to back-off. “Once you have the memories of my dream, you will understand. I know this is all happening far too fast, but you must trust me. You must trust yourself.”

“But how?” Kiran grimly asked, still trying to understand.

He took a step towards Kiran, grasping her gently by the arms. “Close your eyes, and….” He squeezed her arms tightly. “Make a wish.” He whispered, slowly letting go.

Kiran’s eyes fluttered open, and he was gone. All that was left was a confusing string of memories of her masquerading as Alfonse, fighting Freyja’s nightmares with a handful of the Order’s heroes. She shook her head, touching her temples, and letting the events that had happened sink in. The memories of her dream in her world with Claude seemed so distant now. Outside of her reach. She felt a sadness that quickly faded away as those memories with him were slowly replaced with new ones. She looked up and smiled. “Peony.” She remembered the light álfr now.

“A pleasure to finally meet you Kiran!” She gleefully twirled in the air. “Well, all of you, that is! Now, the others are already in the waking world.” Peony lightly touched Kiran’s shoulder, landing gently beside her. “Once you sound Gullinkambi and return, I can move through the veil and join you in Askr!”

“Let’s not keep them waiting then!” Kiran nodded, raising Gullinkambi to her lips.

“STOP!”

Kiran quickly turned to see the Queen of Dökklálfheimr exiting the black pool of the archway. “Lady Freyja!”

“Away with you!” Peony’s cheeks flushed red, and she clenched her fists. 

“Don’t come any closer! I remember you now. I know what you have done! The mind games you have played!” Kiran placed her free hand on Breidablik. “I’m sorry for Dream-King Freyr’s sacrifice, but you left him no choice. Your brothers blood is on your hands Freyja! Give it up, you’re too weak to stop us from returning to the waking world, your fight is over.”

Freyja limped closer, using her staff as support. She dragged one hoofed foot behind her, reaching out to Kiran. “I cannot allow you to leave me, summoner. I need your special dream! If you blow Gullinkambi, then it is the end of all the álfr! I will kill them all!” She threatened, sneering at Peony and turning back to Kiran, offering her an ultimatum. “But you can stop it, you can come with me into the never-ending dream. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for your friends. Self-sacrifice. Isn’t that what Alfonse would do?”

“Stop it with your poison!” Peony fluttered between the two, gesturing her hands towards Freyja. “Shoo! Shoo! You lost the battle for the summoner’s dream. Leave her be!” The light álfr turned back to Kiran, encouraging her to continue down her path. “Blow Gullinkambi without fear, and return to your friends, return to Alfonse!”

“Please, you mustn’t!” Freyja let out a pitiful cry, using her staff to quickly limp towards Kiran, grabbing her shoulders roughly. “Why choose pain and misery of reality when you can have everlasting joy?” She pleaded, weeping out of her good eye. “I will give you whatever dream you desire. Wealth? Pleasure? You will know no suffering! Give me the Breidablik. Give me my brother back!” She hissed through clenched teeth.

“No.” Kiran roughly turned away from Freyja’s grip, removing Breidablik from its holster and aiming it at the Queen of Dökklálfheimr. “We all must face the realities of our actions at some point.” She felt the well of energy surge within her. “Even you, Lady Freyja.” Kiran channeled her emotions through Breidablik. Her anger, her pain, and her fear. Everything that held her back, unleashed upon Freyja, wishing to be free of her nightmares. Kiran could hear Freyja whispering her brother’s name as she was ripped apart by the light which quickly dissipated when she was gone. Kiran was becoming more comfortable with wielding Breidablik, and she was easily able to banish the Queen of Dökklálfheimr from her dreams.

“You did it!” Peony cheered, throwing her arms up in the air. “Now blow the horn Kiran! It’s time to wake up!”

Kiran sadly slid Breidablik back in its holster, turning to the light álfr with a heavy heart. “I’m so sorry, Peony. I don’t wish to return if it means your demise!”

Peony gently touched Kiran’s cheek, giving her a loving smile. “Don’t be sad, all dreamers must wake. It was my pleasure to guide you through the realm of dreams, and you reunited me with my best friend, Princess Sharena! I will always hold that dear to my heart.” She reached down to Kiran’s hands that held Gullinkambi, cradling them in her own. “Go on, blow the horn and wake-up. When you do, you won’t even remember any of this! Which means, you won’t be sad for much longer!”

“Thank-you, for everything!” Kiran sniffed, throwing her arms around Peony, still clutching the horn in one hand. “I vow to find a way to bring you to Askr!” She whispered, finally letting go of the light álfr.

“It’s time to wake-up.” Peony gently encouraged the horn to Kiran’s lips, a bittersweet smile on her face. “It’s time to go home.” She whispered, as Kiran closed her eyes and blew into Gullinkambi.

There was no sound. There was no triumphant blast of noise that signaled the end of the dream had come. Just her, in the darkness, and nothing else. Her body felt incredibly heavy, and her mind wrapped in a dense fog. She coughed, wincing when the cold air rushed through her dry throat. Kiran groaned, raising a hand to rub her eyes, they were both itchy from sleep.

Ranulf sat with folded arms at her bedside sleeping, he snorted awake when he heard her stirring. “Kiran? You’re awake!” His eyes grew wide, and he jumped out of his chair, sitting down on the edge of her bed, and pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. “Thank the Goddess you’re awake!”

“Ranulf?” Kiran croaked, squinting her eyes. She struggled to sit up, her limbs stiff and unresponsive, managing only to prop herself against the thick wall of pillows behind her. “Where am I?”

“Lay still, you’ll be too weak to stand on your own right now. You’re in the castle infirmary.” Ranulf helped adjust her to the strange bed, pulling her thin soft blanket back over her. “You’ve been asleep for three days straight.”

“What happened?” She allowed her friend fuss over her, sinking back into the pillows behind her. The small room, bare of any decoration, and surrounded by cold stone walls. A single window at the far end, carved from the thick rock, barely letting in any natural light.

“The morning after I returned from the shield you wouldn’t wake up! I tried everything!” Ranulf explained, his face distraught as he recounted. “I brought you to the castle for aid, and when I arrived, I learned you weren’t the only one that had fallen to this sleeping sickness. Commander Anna, and more than half the barracks. Laslow, Tsubasa, Cherche, and Claude. Even Princess Sharena and Prince Alfonse.”

“Alfonse?!” Kiran’s eyes widened, and a wave of dread washed over her. “Is he…” She hesitated, and couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence.

“He’s fine. They are all fine.” Ranulf happily reassured her, anchoring his hand on the other side of her bed, and leaning against his arm, so he could face her. “I believe they started to wake early this morning. You were the last one. None of them remember a thing, or know why this happened. Do you know if it was the álfr?”

“Yes, I can’t remember everything, just fragments, but I know for sure it was the álfr.” She nodded, the memories of her dream were fading too, but she knew the creatures she was chasing before the night Ranulf spoke of were behind this. She coughed again, her voice horse, and she wiggled her stiff limbs under the constrictive blanket. She wanted out of bed, still on edge about what had happened. “I don’t know why? None of it makes sense…”

“Just lie back, don’t stress about it.” Ranulf instructed, reaching over and placing a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back, calming her. “You’re safe now. Let me get you some water, and something to eat.” He hopped up onto his feet with an ecstatic bounce. “I’ll send word to the prince that your awake.”

Kiran smiled, and nodded, grateful that he was there when she awoke. To stop her from doing anything silly.

“You don’t know how relieved I am to have you back! Don’t scare me like that again.” He warned her, striding to the door. “If I find any gray whiskers I’m blaming you!” Ranulf chuckled happily, disappearing down the hall.

Kiran giggled while yawning and stretching her arms above her head, wiggling her toes back to life. She sighed trying to recall the events that had taken place in her dream. Ljósálfheimr, Dökklálfheimr, the realm of dreams and nightmares. There was more, so much more, but her mind was struggling to grasp and hold on to the memories of it all.

“Did you have a pleasant dream summoner?” A woman’s voice cooed beside her.

Kiran gasped, turning to see the familiar trickster god. “Loki?!” She croaked, instinctively reaching for Breidablik which wasn’t there. “You’re behind this?! You were masquerading as the álfr all along?”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Loki pouted, leaning on the top of Kiran’s pillows so she could loom over the summoner. “It wasn’t me. The álfr had a little job to do. I was just… supervising one might say. It’s a shame Lady Freyja failed, but I’m happy to pick up the pieces. Like always.” She giggled, trailing a long finger down Kiran’s cheek, and tilting her chin upwards to look into her cunning eyes.

“What do you know?” Kiran pushed Loki’s hand away, she knew she should be fearful, she should have shouted out for the guards to help, but if Loki was willing to give her answers, Kiran was willing to indulge the gods for them. “Who’s behind this?”

“Oh my dear, dear little summoner. I can’t just give you the answers.” Loki purred, tracing her finger slowly down the middle of Kiran’s chest, pressing herself against the summoner’s side, and whispering in her ear. “But if you have to know, maybe we can work something out…”

“Vile witch!” Alfonse snarled when he appeared at the doorway, still wearing his nightclothes from that morning. He pulled a dagger from a sheath he had around his waist, marching into the room. “Loki!” The prince shouted, grabbing the back of the chair Ranulf had been sleeping in, and hurtling it over his shoulder towards the trickster god. The wooden chair cracked and splintered against the stone wall, while Loki teleported away to safety.

Commander Anna and Sharena pushed into the room behind Alfonse, drawing their weapons simultaneously. “I should have known you were the one behind this!” Anna smirked, readying her battle axe.

Sharena moved to her brother’s side at the foot of Kiran’s bed, pointing her lance. “Stay away from Kiran!” She threatened, glaring at the trickster.

“Well, well, it’s getting a bit too crowded in this room for me.” Loki chuckled, holding out her hand, and pulling her staff from out of thin air with a flick of her wrist. “I think visiting hours are over!”

“Stop her!” Alfonse cried, lunging towards Loki with his dagger.

Loki raised her staff, and gracefully turned away from Alfonse’s reach, disappearing into a cloud of mauve smoke that rose around her feet. “Until next time my summoner!” Her laughter echoed off the stone walls, fading away as she did.

“Damn it!” Alfonse cursed, furiously sliding his dagger back in its sheath. He turned on his heel and quickly strode towards Kiran. “Are you alright? She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

Kiran pushed herself to sit up in her small bed. “No, no, I’m fine.” She reassured the prince.

“I’ll alert the guards!” Anna huffed, tossing her red hair and throwing her battle axe over her shoulder. “Come along Sharena. You take the south wing!”

“On it, Commander!” Sharena nodded, and quickly followed Anna out the door. There was a curious band of small flowers, tied together in a crown, hung from the princess’s belt.

“Kiran, I’m so glad you’re okay.” Alfonse sighed in relief. “How are you feeling?”

“This is going to sound dumb, but a little tired.” She gave him a groggy smile.

“Yes, so am I.” He gave a light-hearted chuckle, settling down on the end of the bed. “I keep trying to put the events together, to make sense of what happened… My head is spinning, and my memories of the dream are fading fast. I have advised those who were under the spell to write what they can recall in a journal. We can review them at a later date.” Alfonse sighed, looking at the broken chair in the corner. “At least we now know that Loki is behind what happened.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Kiran crossed her arms, furrowing her brows in concern. “Loki mentioned another, a Lady Freyja. Does that name ring a bell?”

Alfonse’s grip grew tighter around his dagger’s handle. “No, but I’ll look in to it. Maybe one of the others will recognize the name.” He paused, a troubled look creeping across his face. “I want to apologize; It’s all my fault that this happened. I should have been there for you when you asked. Listened when you came to me for help. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course, Alfonse.” She leaned over, placing her hand on his. “I just want things to go back to how they were before all this álfr bussiness.”

“Me too.” He eagerly agreed with a kind smile.

“But they can’t.” She sadly followed up, turning her gaze from him.

“Kiran?” His cheerful demeanor faded away, replaced with confusion.

“I know you have responsibilities to the crown. A duty that needs to come before the Order, and I can’t expect you to be there for me all the time. To fight my battles.” Kiran leant back into the soft pillows behind her. “And you have to stop worrying so much about me too! There’s a whole barracks to do that job.” She let out a light-hearted chuckle, grinning back at him. “I’ll be fine. I promise you. I’m in good hands.”

Alfonse hesitated at first, but began nodding his head slowly that he understood.

“S-sorry to interrupt.” Sakura appeared in the doorway, carrying and tray of assorted tools and paperwork. “I’m here to evaluate Kiran’s condition.”

“Thank-you, Sakura.” Alfonse rose from Kiran’s bed, standing tall. “I’ll make sure Canas gives you plenty of time off for recovery. If you happen to remember anything, please let me know. Now, get some rest. You deserve it. We all do.”

* * *

Within the small infirmary garden, carved out on the Cliffside, Kiran pulled the thin blanket tighter around her shoulders, watching the flames dance in the Eternal Fountain of Fire. A decorative peace-offering from Múspell that kept the garden plants warm. She sighed, letting the steam created by the fountain wash over her, chasing away the chill that hung in the morning air. She had spent the night, under the watchful eye of Ranulf, in the infirmary, but now she was ready to go home.

“I was hoping to find you here!”

“Claude!” She happily greeted him, as he emerged out of the fog that was blown in his direction. “It’s nice to see you up and well!”

“I’ve come to let you know that Canas has signed off of Alfonse’s request to give you a leave of absence.” Claude informed her, handing her a letter of notice while holding a journal under his other arm. “You’ll be off work until the new year.”

“The new year?!” Kiran exclaimed, opening the envelope, perplexed by the length of time she was being given. “That seems a little excessive!”

“My guess is they are bundling the time in with the holidays.” He shifted his weight, and stared at the flames licking off the surface of the water.

“That makes sense.” She paused, it felt like she was forgetting something. As if there was something she wanted to say, or do, when she first saw him, but she brushed it off. “What about you?”

“I’ve been given some time off too, but I think Soren has other plans.” He gave an uneasy chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. “So we’ll see what happens.”

“Don’t let him push you too hard.” The corners of Kiran’s lips turned downwards in disapproval. “He forgets, not everyone has his level of stamina.”

“I won’t, thanks!” Claude turned to leave, stopping in mid stride. “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” She reminded him, happy to be in his company a bit longer.

“It’s about these journals that Alfonse gave us to document our dreams in.” Claude pulled out the leather bound book that had been tucked under his arm. “I have been talking to the other heroes who were in the dream, and well, my memories are vastly different from theirs. I wanted to talk to you before I gave my journal to Alfonse.” He hesitated, taking a step forward and lowering his voice. “I can’t help but feel that you might be able to shed some light on the things I have recalled.” Claude whispered, unable to hide the apprehensive look on his face as he handed her his journal.

Kiran opened it curiously, her heart skipping a beat. She stood in shock and awe, glaring down at the journal in her hands. Each page she turned to contained sketches and descriptions, detailing the life and technology of her own world. The world she left behind for Askr.

“No one else has written about these things.” Claude explained, watching her reaction intently. “The types of buildings, the means of travel, and… the lights. I spent all night trying to capture my memories of the dream before they faded. Trying to make sense of them.” He tilted his head, attempting to catch her gaze with his own, edger for her to respond. “You know what they are, don’t you?”

Kiran tried to swallow her nerves, clearing her throat. “Why would you say that?”

“We were suspicious that the álfr had tampered with our dreams, and I don’t believe I was with the others. I was with you. In your dream. Experiencing whatever world, you dreamt of.” Claude turned to a section of the journal that had been well read, the spine cracked in half from use. “The name ‘Joyce’ kept repeating in my mind. If I don’t keep writing it down it will fade away, and I don’t want that.” He pointed to long sections that outlined her life, her small apartment in the city, her hobbies and interests before Askr. “That’s you, isn’t it?” He pressed her for answers.

Kiran quickly shut the journal, her heart was about to leap from her chest. She had never shared with anyone in Zenith about the technologies of her world, let alone her true name. Kiran was unsure how he came to know of these things, she could remember sharing a dream with him. She shook her head in disbelief, pretending to be clueless. “Claude, I don’t know what this is…”

“No! I know I’m right!” Claude became anxious, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Please, you have to tell me the truth.” He begged, his care-free attitude fading away, becoming irate. “I don’t’ want to forget these things. I want to understand them! When you go back to your world, take me with you. I just want to go back!”

“I know you do, but you can’t turn your back on Fódlan, and all your wonderful dreams you had before you arrived in Askr.” Kiran quietly told him, sympathetically looking into his eyes. “My world sacrificed it’s dreams to have all of… this.” She held the journal up, and turned away, pulling from his arms. “None of these comforts are worth giving up everything you worked so hard to already achieve.”

“Joyce…” Claude pleaded, choking on his words. “I don’t want to forget -”

“You have to let this go. Some dreams aren’t worth chasing.” She steeled herself, walking towards the fountain, and tossing the journal into the flames. Kiran hated to do it, to be so cruel to him, but what choice did she have? There are some realities she wasn’t ready to face in Askr yet. “Just tell Alfonse that your memories faded before he gave you the journal.” She coldly instructed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

Claude took a step towards the fountain, his face twisted in pain, hurt by her actions. “But-”

“Hey, there you guys are!” Ranulf’s voice called out from the fog as he approached. “Sakura said I could find you here.” He happily greeted the pair, turning to Kiran. “Ready to go?”

Kiran nodded, she was happy to get out of the castle infirmary. “Yup, I can’t wait to get home! I will finally get to sleep in my own bed.” She was looking forward to the time off too, to just sit in front of the fireplace with a good book. Enjoy the peace and quiet for once.

“I was thinking of stopping into that bakery on the way home, did you want to come Claude?” Ranulf asked, snapping Claude out of the trance he was in as he stared into the flames.

“Oh?!” Claude forced a smile, and rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll pass. There’s a few things I need to catch-up on here at the castle, but thank-you for the invite.”

“You beorc, I swear, you just escaped the realm of nightmares and you should be relaxing, but all you want to do is work more!” Ranulf snorted with a chuckle, throwing up his arms as he walked away. “I’ll never understand it!”

“I’m sure I’ll see you around, Claude.” She gave him a bittersweet smile, turning to follow Ranulf. There was a part of her that was disappointed that he turned Ranulf’s offer down to join them, but there was another half that told her she needed time to sort through all these thoughts and feelings she didn’t quite understand yet. Maybe he felt the same way? Regardless, Kiran looked forward to seeing Claude again when the time was right. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with!” She called out, exiting the garden.

“Yeah, sure.” Claude nodded, letting out a long sigh. “I’ll make sure to keep let you know if anything comes up… Kiran.” He lingered on her name quietly, watching them leave, and turning back to the fire that continued to burn.

Ranulf playfully nudged her once they reached the corridor. “I hope you know what you’re going to order at the bakery. I don’t want to be standing there all day!” He teased her, snickering to himself, and spinning a house key around his finger.

“Don’t worry!” Kiran laughed, watching the key twirl around, and keeping her head held high. “I already know what I want!”

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp that was fun! I hope you enjoyed my prompts focusing on events for FEH Book 4, and continue to come back for the on going FEH stories! I have some fun stuff planned out for the future!
> 
> I know this last chapter could have been better if I split it maybe into two, but I was kind of disappointed in all the craziness of book 4, and I just wanted to get back to Askr shenanigans! I would love to know what people thought! Was this a good approach to book 4? Going all out with my own take, and forming my own story around it, or would people rather read a play-by-play of what IS has given us with my favorite heroes?


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